Author's Notes:
Here again, at your regularly scheduled several-months-later interval. I can wax poetic about how sorry I am for the delay and how wonderfully supportive and patient you all are, but I've done all that before, so you're aware of how much I adore you. Instead, I'll just let you get to the story. Thanks for this chapter go to by lovely and talented betas, Ben and Andie, for all their time and hard work. In addition, to D, because… your moodiness is now and then bewilderin', and your values may be, so to speak, askew…but it's nobody else but y-o-u. Enjoy."I remember that one fateful day when Coach took me aside. I knew what was coming. "You don't have to tell me," I said. "I'm off the team, aren't I?" "Well," said Coach, "you never were really ON the team. You made that uniform you're wearing out of rags and towels, and your helmet is a toy space helmet. You show up at practice and then either steal the ball and make us chase you to get it back, or you try to tackle people at inappropriate times." It was all true, what he was saying. And yet, I thought something is brewing inside the head of this Coach. He sees something in me, some kind of raw talent that he can mold. But that's when I felt the handcuffs go on."
-Jack Handey-
Wednesday, October 22nd, 7th Year Girls' Dormitory
Observant Lily: Day 37
Total Observations: 244
Ways to Spend a Night That Does Not Include Sleeping or Thinking
An Informative List, Complied by an Emotionally Drained Witch,
Lily C. Evans
1. Remember those copies of Witch Weekly your mates toss at you every now and then, but which you promptly roll your eyes at and ignore? Let's try something new. Go pick one up—no, seriously. Go. Learn a bit about life. If nothing else, ogle a few of the male models and feel like a normal, teenage witch for once.
2. Looking for something a bit more stimulating? Grab a Charms textbook. There's an exam tomorrow, you know, and even though—let's be honest here—you probably don't have to study, it's never good to get into that sort of mindset. Everyone can do with some revising.
3. Unbandage your rather gross and still healing acid wound and blanch at it accordingly. You might also stop to wonder why a woman as wonderful and talented as Poppy Pomfrey would do such a rotten job at healing your wounds that they would still look exactly the same as the day that you got them. Consider sabotage and/or writing a strongly-worded letter about it.
4. Start writing said letter, and giggle when you choose to begin it, "Oy, Popps."
5. Start writing another letter, this one addressed to your mother, and scowl as you begin it, "Dear Woman Who May Have Spawned Me, But Who Has Lost All Claim to a More Affectionate Title."
6. Bin both. Letters are rubbish.
7. Reorganize your trunk.
8. Search for split-ends. Clip accordingly.
9. Compose a song to the beat of Carrie Lloyd's heavy breathing.
10. Above all else, pretend that you are not merely playing at all these abovementioned, worthless attempts to pass time, and that you are not instead completely consumed by exhaustion and embarrassment, dwelling on the stupid, stupid things you did last night and the fact that you cannot sleep because of them. Because maybe you did get your feelings smashed by your former proposed life mate. And maybe you did decide to retaliate in turn by smashing that same former proposed life mate with a few unknown hexes. And maybe you did spend the hour afterwards molesting your poor more-or-less-mate-with-potential for the whole library to see, hardly caring because you're clearly an emotionally drained slag. But why should any of that matter? Really, why should it?
I think it's time for some air. And about a bushel load of Alert Elixir.
Later, Hogwarts Grounds
Observant Lily: Day 37
Total Observations: 245
Bloody effing hell, whose idea was this? It's ruddy cold out here.
All right, so maybe it wasn't the brightest idea to plop myself down right by the lake. Maybe I should have thought this one out a bit more. I mean, I'm pretty sure there's some sort of natural phenomenon that clearly states that it's substantially colder near water. I know it exists—what the hell is it called? Maybe if Grace had had a few more vials of Alert Elixir, I'd be able to recall it. I might also be able to get up and move to a warmer location. But considering my useless mate only stowed away two vials to be thieved, this is what I've become—cold and confused and comatose. Alliteration at its best.
Oh, who cares, anyway? So maybe my bum will freeze off. So maybe I'll lose a few fingers. This is still exponentially better than being inside. I hate inside. Walls are so bloody constricting. And there are like...like people inside. They migrate towards it. Like a disease. Or a cult. I refuse to take part in either. Even if I freeze. I should really be rewarded for my good choices and noble sacrifices. It's the least the world can do. Even if—
Oh, hell. Why am I such a dolt? Where's my bloody wand?
Still Later, Still on the Hogwarts Grounds
Observant Lily: Day 37
Total Observations: 245
Ode to Warming Charms
by Lily Evans
Warming Charms, oh Warming Charms,
I do adore you so.
Sitting here by the lake,
I no longer feel so cold.
My bum was nearly freezing,
my nose was shivering, too,
but with a flick of my wand, you warmed me,
is it a wonder why I love you?
Later Later, Breakfast in the Great Hall
Observant Lily: Day 37
Total Observations: 245
I had to go inside eventually. As much as I dreaded it, as much as I avoided it, as much as the idea of sitting here composing more poetry or finally taking off for my Guamanian adventures grew increasingly more attractive, there really was little choice in the matter. I had to go inside. All I had control over was the 'when' in the situation—at what point exactly did I finally face the music and reenter myself into the world? And even though I was well aware that I could've stayed right there beside the lake until the very last second, leaving myself only enough time to dash to Runes before it began and slip inside the classroom before anyone had the chance to speak or snipe or breathe particularly rudely…my pride wouldn't let me do it. It just wouldn't. I was not the one in the wrong here, after all. I shouldn't have to hide like a guilty child. The blame for this entire wretched saga fell entirely upon Amos and Julie's shoulders, so let them go into hiding. I wouldn't. I absolutely wouldn't. I had nothing to be ashamed of—well, nothing Amos and Julie related, anyway. I was more than my fair share of mortified over my dramatics in the library, but I could only deal with one giant problem at a bloody time. That humiliation would have to wait its turn.
So, in the end, I decided to quit being such a pansy. I got up, brushed the grass and such off my skirt, and headed inside just around the same time I'd usually be arriving in the Great Hall for breakfast. I had meaning and purpose. I had pride. If I pretended everything was as usual, maybe one or two things might actually manage to be. I figured that was my best shot at any slice of normalcy.
It was just as I was striding purposefully into the Entrance Hall, my resolve and determination set, that my plan began to fall into tatters. I wish I could say I was shocked by its failure. I suppose it says a lot that I wasn't. At all.
"Holy Harpies, there you are! Bloody hell, Lil, I thought you were going to make me drag you inside."
"Gracie?" I froze in my tracks, blinking rapidly at Grace's quickly approaching form. She didn't look like a hallucination. She was dressed in her uniform and appeared entirely solid and lucid. Uh-oh. "Is someone dead?" I asked.
"What?" Grace continued striding forward until she was standing right there in front of me, looking none-too-entertained by my only partially joking question. She was still looking entirely solid, however. Definitely not a hallucination, then. The non-hallucination propped its hands on its hips. "What are you on about?" it asked.
"It's seven," I explained slowly, waiting for the recognition to hit. When it didn't and Grace continued to stare at me as if I'd just spouted twelve eyes that sang, I elaborated further. "Seven a.m., Gracie. Like, morning. Really early morning. I didn't know your body even acknowledged hours in this quadrant—not without some Quidditch to soften the blow, anyway."
"Oh, ha," Grace scoffed, rolling her eyes and acting as if what I'd just said wasn't entirely and completely true (even though it was). She grabbed my hand without preamble and started to tug. "Do you think we really have time for your wit right now, Slaggy? We have work to do."
Er...work?
Oh, dear.
Why did that sound troublingly menacing?
"Work?" I repeated warily. "What work?"
But Grace didn't answer as she dragged me through the foyer, stopping only when we stood just outside the closed doors of the Great Hall. She turned to me then, placing her hands on her hips once again and cocking her head to the side appraisingly. As I stood there like a bewildered idiot, she gave me the slow once-over, a thorough scan from head to toe. I fidgeted about and wondered what exactly she was doing as she reached out to brush a bit of stray outside mess from my skirt, then straightened my shirt collar. After that, she lunged quickly for the elastic holding back my hair and gave it a swift yank, ignoring my protests as my hair fell all over the place in a tangled mess. Only after she had effectively avoided my flailing hands and stopped me from fiddling with my hair did she finally give a satisfied nod.
I glared daggers at her.
She glared back.
Bloody wench.
"We," she announced pointedly, "are doing some serious damage control, Evans. Now let's go."
Damage control.
Damage control?
Oh, hell.
"Gracie—"
But Grace had already thrown open the Great Hall doors, ignoring my arguments and angry stares as she strolled right on inside, leaving me fretting and protesting like a complete lunatic in the doorway. Mentally hexing her in every rotten way I knew how, I had little choice but to follow along behind her, which I did at a decidedly clipped pace. Trying to ignore the attention we were attracting from my fellow early risers, I jabbed Grace hard in the back when I finally managed to catch up with her halfway down the Gryffindor table. She didn't even bother to turn and look at me.
"I don't want my damage to be controlled!" I hissed desperately. "No controlling! I like my damage chaotic!"
"Things aren't too bad right now," was Grace's quiet reply, entirely ignoring everything I'd just said. "As far as I know, the story hasn't gotten around yet—but I wouldn't count on that for long. I ran into Laurie Shacklebolt pacing about the common room when I came down from bed. I think she feels the potential gossip in the air."
A worrying sort of manic expression crossed over Grace's face then, and I could only imagine the kinds of things brewing about in that mad mind of hers. When I'd told her and Emma the whole terrible trauma last night, I had no idea that she'd latched onto it so fiercely. Then again, it had been late, I had been drained, and I'd known that I had an entire night of non-sleeping ahead of me, so I don't suppose I was really paying proper attention. Clearly that had been a mistake.
"What exactly are you planning to do?" I questioned, realising that protesting was getting me nowhere. I figured I might as well get all the details I could, if only to know what I was up against. "There's no hiding it, Gracie. Amos and Julie are clearly together now and anyone with half a brain is going to put two and two together and realise I was chucked."
Grace whipped around suddenly. I jumped back, startled by the abrupt movement. She loomed over me with distinct displeasure.
Dear lord, what had I done now?
"'Chucked' is not the sort of word we want to be throwing about casually right now, Lily Evans!" she snapped, her words sharp and whispered. "We need to sway public sympathy to your side! You are the victim! From this point forward, you're only to say—"
"But I don't want to be the victim!" I interrupted frantically, truly wishing someone might for once actually care about what I want. "I don't want everyone pitying me, Gracie! That's even worse than them thinking I wasn't good enough for Amos, and I've already got enough to deal with there!"
"They're not going to pity you," Grace insisted. She turned back around and kept walking until we'd reached the far side of the table where I usually sat. "And they're not going to be thinking that rubbish about Amos, either. You're such a henwit."
I meant to toss her a disgruntled look for that—Henwit? Psh. I'm no such thing!—but was quickly distracted by the sight of my usually pristine eating area. Grace had clearly set up camp. Her books and papers were spread out across the patch of table, appearing deceptively casual beside a plate filled with eggs and fruit. But I knew better. On those papers and in those books were undoubtedly plans of attack whose plotting and precision could probably rival any great battle in history. On the other side of the mess, Marley sat in her usual spot, munching on a piece of toast. She gave me a quick wave when my shocked gaze fell onto her, then jerked her head towards Grace as a reminder for me to pay attention. I did so grudgingly, turning back to Grace with little patience.
"How do you figure that?" I asked.
Grace rolled her eyes as if I were clearly missing something obvious. "There's no need for pity when the victim doesn't care, Lil! Swaying the masses to your side and having them feel bad for you are two entirely different matters. All we have to do is make sure they know that last night's events were merely a very annoying clarification of all the rotten things you already believed about Amos Diggory. You're the bright one; he's the blighter. Both problems solved. Got it?"
"Why does it even matter?" I whined, thinking that that whole thing sounded entirely more effort-driven than I was really willing to even consider. "Can't we just ignore it and go on with our lives?"
That sounded like a good plan to me—in fact, it sounded like the perfect plan—but judging by the way Grace looked at Marley with a sort of, "Really, who has time for this?" expression, I'm guessing she didn't agree.
Which is just plain narrow-minded of her, if you ask me. Then again, when has my opinion ever counted?
"I don't want to do this," I moaned, quickly realizing that I was fighting a lost battle. I plopped myself down onto the bench all miserably, then proceeded to bury my face in my arms on the table. "No one else has to do damage control after a break-up."
"No one else breaks up quite as dramatically as you do," was Marley's amused reply. When I briefly lifted my head to send her a glare, she only shrugged and grinned. "Sorry, but it's true. I hope you don't mind, but Grace filled me in on the details. Blimey, Diggory's scum."
"Everyone's scum," I muttered bitterly, dropping my head back down. "Amos is scum. Julie's scum. I'm scum. You're scum. Grace is—"
"Oh, hush up," Grace ordered, whacking me none-too-lightly on the back of the head. Ow. "Sit up and quit moping, will you? Everyone's going to think you're brooding over Diggory."
"I'm brooding over you," I shot back, but sat up as she asked because I might not agree with most of this 'damage control' rubbish, but I certainly didn't want anyone thinking that I was moping over Amos. Psh. As if. "This is stupid, Gracie," I tried one last time. "Why can't we just—"
"Well, look who's finally decided to show up!" Grace called, spinning around and crossing her arms over her chest. I huffed in annoyance at once again being ignored and wondered just who it was that had merited attention over me this time. The scathing comment was already on my tongue, ready to lash out. My head turned towards the intruder…and then instantly jerked back.
Oh, shit.
James.
Of course it was James.
Hell.
"Where have you been?" Grace demanded.
"I usually choose to sleep and dress in my dormitory," was James's flat reply, and bloody hell this thing between us has to be some sort of sick, mad, dangerous, chemical imbalance because I'll be damned if I didn't actually feel him walk up behind me, even as I stared determinedly at Marley. "What are you doing here?" he asked Grace.
"Damage control," Grace replied, dropping a hand on my head. There was a pause, then, "Make yourself useful, would you? Go snog Lily in the middle of the Hall."
"No!"
"All right."
Oh, for Merlin's sake.
I whipped around in my seat, hearing James's laughter and Marley's too as I began to really panic.
"Stop it. Stop it now!" I snapped, sticking Grace with my most fierce glare. I was still too unnerved to look directly at James, but he deserved a good glower, as well, so I hoped my anger radiations were enough to chastise him properly. Grace was grinning. I suppose James was probably doing the same thing, but I wasn't going to check. Bloody idiots. "This isn't a game, all right? Just leave the whole thing alone. I don't need any of your damage control!"
"Hm-hm. Yes, of course," Grace murmured, but she wasn't even looking at me anymore. Instead, she'd fixed her gaze on some spot just past the Hufflepuff table. Her grin fell and her eyes narrowed. "Be right back," she said, and was already walking. "Come along, Marls," she called over her shoulder.
Marley put down her Prophet and was on her feet in a matter of moments. "Right," she said, and sauntered off quickly after Grace.
Which left me alone with James.
Lovely.
Just lovely.
"Well, she's taking this rather seriously," he muttered, dropping down on the bench next to me, his back against the table. I stared resolutely at my plate. "Makes you thankful she's on your side, doesn't it?"
"Hmm." I could feel my face heating up, all red and tingling and utterly embarrassing. In my lame attempts to seem casual, I started grabbing blindly for things on the table, but only managed to overturn a half-filled glass of pumpkin juice. Swearing viciously, I grabbed a napkin and began frantically mopping up the mess. It was about the least casual action in the entire world. I suppose it was too much to hope that James hadn't noticed.
"Lil?" he asked flatly, when I'd only managed to make my blunder more apparent with my failed cleaning attempts. I threw the sopping napkins down onto the table in frustration. With a quick wave of his wand, James vanished the whole mess. Oh, hell. "What are you doing?"
"I can't look at you right now," I blurted out without thinking, then blushed even harder when I realised what exactly I'd just said. Shit. Shit. "I'm sorry. Merlin, I'm sorry. I am so completely mortified right now. I can't even…I shouldn't have…" I let out a deep breath, then heard my mouth unleash another equally pathetic verbal mess. "Everything I did last night was entirely stupid and I dragged you into it and I'm sorry. I can't look you. I can't talk to you. I am too humiliated. So you should really just go away now, all right? I'm sorry."
Oh, splendid, Lily. Cheers.
'You should really just go away now'? Had I honestly just said that?
I wanted to bury myself in a hole and remain there for the rest of my days. I was horrifically humiliated, to a point that surpassed anything before it. But if James found my madness particularly more pathetic than usual, he didn't show it. I suppose the poor thing was used to it by now.
"What exactly are you apologising for?" he asked, and I could feel his eyes staring, even as I continued to gaze fixedly at the tabletop.
"I ruined everything by going to you last night," I answered slowly, confessing one of the greatest worries that had plagued me throughout my less-than-distraction-filled night. I stared at my plate and hoped I could get this out properly. "People are going to hear about what happened with Amos, then hear about how right afterwards I ran all hysterically to you and dragged you into the nearest dark corner of the library, and I'm sure they'll think of all sorts of deprived things after that. So now I'm the witch who had to go molest the most willing bloke in order to get back her pride, and you're the sap who let it happen."
Ugh.
Merlin, it sounded even worse aloud.
Shit.
"Or," James said after a moment, "you're the witch who was understandably upset, and I'm the bloke that was lucky enough to help you calm down."
Listening to that terribly kind and clearly tainted take on last night very nearly did me in. I was still blushing like some childish twelve-year-old, but I finally managed to turn my head and look at him. He was staring at me with eyebrows raised, questioning my seemingly ridiculous and overdramatic reaction to something that probably shouldn't be that big of a dilemma. But he didn't really understand, and I didn't know how to explain it. Last night...hell, there were just too many mad feelings surrounding it to put into proper words. There was really no way to say what I wanted, which was something between, "Thank you for making my horrid night perfect," and, "I'm sorry for exploiting everything between us and molesting you in public when I won't even date you once daylight hits." If I was telling the truth, the thing that bothered me the most about was how I had practically paraded around that library with a sign that said, "Just Groped James Potter Behind the Shelves," and couldn't have cared less about it. I mean, that's not me. I didn't want that. I wasn't one of those girls. I didn't even want to think about what people might expect from me now, or even what James would.
But the most maddening thing about it all was that I wouldn't change a single second of it, even if I could. Which, really, says what about me and my mad psyche?
I really don't even want to think about it. It's probably decidedly bad and telling.
"You really have to stop worrying about all this rubbish," James told me, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Who gives a damn about what people think?"
"I do."
"Well, there's your problem."
I shook my head and sighed. "Not all of us can be that enlightened. And at least," I put in dryly, jerking my head towards the quickly approaching Grace and Marley, who were walking with their heads ducked together and whispering rapidly, "I'm not as bad as some we could mention. I mean, damage control? Honestly?"
"You've given her purpose," James said with a grin. "Call it your civic duty and play along."
I rolled my eyes and moodily stuck a waffle with my fork. I knew this wasn't the end of this discussion—or it wasn't the end of me worrying over it, in any case—but I also knew that I wasn't going to convince James there was a problem, at least not now. He'd realise it in time, of course, once he had the chance to experience firsthand the consequences of my actions. I had no doubt that he'd be dragged through the mud nearly as much as I would throughout the next ten to twelve hours. I wish there was something I could do to stop it, but if there was an answer, I couldn't see it. As he sat there and smiled at me, I could only feel guilty, but I tried to hide it under a decidedly false casualness.
"Fine," I finally answered, sipping some pumpkin juice as Grace and Marley drew closer. "But I'm not letting you snog me in the middle of the Great Hall."
"Fine," James replied, easily grabbing my cup from my grasp and taking a sip himself. He placed it back down on the table. "How's the first floor corridor for you?"
Oh, for Merlin's sake.
Really, it's a wonder how I even survive in this sea of stupidity.
"False alarm," Grace announced as she and Marley finally reached us, ignoring James's—of course—obnoxious laughter, and my "I'm-seriously-considering-death-by-fork" expression. She sat down next to James. "I thought perhaps Leila Bergman was glancing over here with unsympathetic purpose, but I'm rather sure she was just lusting after James's fine physique."
"Leila, who?" I asked.
"Nice," James chuckled. He tugged at my hair until I turned to look at him instead of Grace. He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. I rolled my eyes.
"She can have you," I muttered, and meant it. Sort of.
Grace let out a sigh, grabbing a piece of parchment and a quill off the table. She stuck a line across the page, as if crossing something off a list. Then she looked up at me. "You make things extremely difficult around here, do you know that?"
I was really afraid to ask, so I didn't. I just shrugged. It felt safest.
Grace might not have taken that as a proper answer—in fact, she got a rather disgruntled look on her face and opened her mouth to I'm sure say something rather scathing about my life and habits and bleak future, but she stopped suddenly when something over my shoulder caught her eye. Her mouth closed, then lifted into a satisfied smirk.
"Ah," she said. "Another soldier returns."
I turned my head just in time to see Emma entering through the Great Hall doors, looking more than slightly harried. As I watched her approach at a rather brisk pace, I didn't bother to hide my rampant disapproval. I could not believe that Emma—my lovely, sane, sensible mate, Emma—would succumb to this madness along with the rest of them. My disappointment was positively stifling.
She reached us in record time, dropping down onto the bench across the table where Marley had already reclaimed her seat. She looked even more hassled up close, but that wasn't going to make me change my mind about how utterly disappointed I was in her and her actions.
She could not play on my pity. I'm much stronger than that.
Well, mostly.
"All right," she said, letting out a long breath and brushing some stray bits of hair away from her face. "I have your information."
Information?
Oh, poor Emma. What has Grace done to you?
"Let's hear it," the brainwashing mastermind herself said eagerly, leaning over the table to hear better, though I was hearing perfectly fine from my straightened position and really didn't see a need. Then again, I so rarely see a need in much of what Grace does. "What's going on up there?" she asked.
"Quite a lot," Emma replied, then turned to look at me. "What did you do to that boy, Lily?"
Huh?
"What?" I asked, confused. "What boy?"
"Amos," she answered in a whisper, and suddenly Emma's task became so obvious. Find Amos. Assess the damage. Of course. "Whatever it was," Emma went on, shaking her head ruefully, "it was rather potent. Madam Pomfrey's keeping him for the day. He's all moaning and tossing in his cot. And he's green, Lil."
"Green?" I asked blankly, at the same time that James sighed all happily.
"This may be my proudest moment," he said. "Top three, at least."
I never would have admitted it aloud, but I couldn't say I wasn't thinking something quite similar.
Bastard deserved every colour change he got.
Hmph!
"Do you know if he's talking?" Grace asked next, obviously not relishing in the he's-green information as much as some others of us were. She was jotting things down on her parchment again. Emma shook her head in response.
"He hasn't admitted anything yet, but I overheard Pomfrey talking with Sprout." She looked at me with a little uneasiness. "You are a suspect. Apparently when Julie brought Amos in last night, they were arguing. Your name was dropped several times. But Julie left in a nasty huff soon afterwards, so now she's a suspect, too. And then there's James."
I very nearly choked on my own spit.
What?
"James?" I sputtered, my stomach dipping and diving in a frenzy of panic. Grace simply chuckled.
"Sprout and Pomfrey are up on their gossip, eh?" she asked, pausing in her writing only long enough to grin. She almost immediately went back to jotting things down. "Nice."
"Not me," James muttered bitterly, with no lack of a pointed look sent my way. "I wasn't allowed."
"No one else is getting in trouble for what I did!" I declared instantly, though, truth be told, I hadn't even thought about the repercussions of my hexes or curses or whatever it was that I'd thrown Amos's way last night. Of course Pomfrey couldn't let something like this slide—it clearly wasn't an accident. She'd have to look into who had done it. And even though I dreaded fueling the impending gossip even more with detentions for my actions, I wasn't going to deny it if the accusation came my way. No one was taking the fall for what I'd done. And besides, I wasn't ashamed of hexing Amos. I stood by my actions…well, whatever exactly they were. I should probably try to remember what exactly I'd unleashed upon the git. It might be slightly helpful.
I felt a headache coming on. This day was looking longer than I'd expected.
"Do you think Amos will say anything?" Marley asked, glancing at me. "What about Julie?"
I shrugged my shoulders, truly unsure. "I have no idea."
"They wouldn't dare," Emma said, frowning. "After what they did? Don't you think?"
I wished I had an answer, but I didn't. I honestly had no idea what either of them would do. And the more I thought about it, the more my headache pounded. I shook my head and shrugged again because everyone was staring and seemed to expect some sort of response. I didn't have much to give them. I could barely even think properly at that point, even if I had had some insight into the future.
"Everything will work out," Marley said encouragingly, lifting her pumpkin juice to me in a silent toast. She took a sip, then looked towards Grace, who had started scribbling things again. "Won't everything work out, Grace?"
Grace muttered something under her breath that I couldn't hear, then paused in her scribbling to grab another piece of parchment. As we all watched her, she ducked her head and sighed. "I think I'm going to need more soldiers."
As everyone laughed all uncomfortably—yes, much thanks for all the optimism, mates—James placed a hand on the small of my back and leaned over.
"If we're the soldiers," he whispered teasingly, "what do you reckon that makes you?"
"I think the war," I muttered dryly. He laughed.
I'm glad that some of us can have a sense of humour about these things.
Even Later, Still in the Great Hall
Observant Lily: Day 37
Total Observations: 246
I'm not certain if this is a good sign or a bad sign, but Laurie Shacklebolt did just walk past here without stopping to pry. In fact, she didn't stop at all. I think Grace is right—the bloody chit smells the brewing gossip in the air. She went striding past here, head all a-swivel, as if the lot of us were going to jump up and be all, "Oy! Over here! Gossip abound!" and make it as easy as that. Clearly she has never dealt with Grace and her damage control plots before. They're nothing if not thorough.
Merlin, my head aches. Grace keeps muttering instructions and I'm pretending to take them in, but mostly I'm just brooding over my waffles. I wish my life were simple. I wish that Julie and Amos would just move off to Guam together and that James would understand when I say that I'm still too humiliated to look at him and that I weren't so humiliated in the first place. If Hogwarts had a wishing fountain, it would be overflowing with my Sickles. I would just plow them all in, one after another. I might even throw a few Knuts in there, just for some extra advantage. I'm not above bribery. 'Dear Fates, Here's all my money. Help. Love, Lily.'
If only that would help. Somehow, I just think I'd be a fortune down and no wishes up.
Bugger it all.
A Bit Later, Still Still in the Great Hall
Observant Lily: Day 37
Total Observations: 246
When Hogwarts Acquires its Wishing Fountain Knut Wish #1) I wish I didn't have to go to Ancient Runes right now.
Shit, shit, shit, shit.
Later, Ancient Runes
Observant Lily: Day 37
Total Observations: 247
She's not here. She didn't show up for class.
The hag.
The stupid, bloody, cowardly hag.
How could she do this? Really, how? I have never been more aghast in my entire overwrought existence—and I've had quite a bit to be aghast about in my short seventeen years, I'll have you know! How could it have seemed even the tiniest bit of a good idea to ditch class? What sort of gumption do you need in order to be so utterly wretched? And, all right, I did sort of say that this should happen—that Amos and Julie should be the ones hiding instead of me, I mean. And I meant it then. I really did. I didn't want to be the one cowering and it seemed entirely fair that they should be instead. But now…
Oh, hell, it's just so awkward.
Does anyone know why Amos and Julie are missing? Have they guessed—or worse, heard—what happened? How am I supposed to know? And if I don't know, how am I supposed to act? Am I supposed to be looking all haughty and dignified and no-fellow-Ancient-Runers-I-am-not-ashamed-of-my-violent-actions-or-slaggish-library-ways-so-why-don't-you-all-just-bugger-off-and-go-back-to-your-studies-this-is-a-school-isn't-it-much-thanks-bye? Or am I supposed to be acting positively normal—which would basically include ignoring everyone in this class save for Hyena and Penny, who are still in the midst of their row and are presently being rather hilarious about it? How do I know?
Julie Little is a dirty, stupid, selfish slag. I can't believe she's left me to fend for myself. Go on and rub some more salt in the wound, Jules. Go on. Just pour it on in, why don't you?
People are so cruel.
Later, Charms
Observant Lily: Day 37
Total Observations: 250
If the morning hadn't already been so utterly and uncontrollably mad, I might have been truly disconcerted over the fact that I hadn't even managed to fully exit the Runes classroom before I was abruptly and rudely accosted. However, things being as they are, I was only minimally startled by the sudden waylay. Sort of.
"We've got trouble," Grace hissed in greeting, grabbing my arm as soon as I'd cleared the classroom doorway, already propelling me down the corridor without any other hello-there-mate-how-are-you-lovely's. I blinked rapidly, following along in a half-mystified fashion, my feet skidding across the floor as Grace dragged me down the corridor. Once I regained some semblance of self, I snatched my arm back from Grace and gave her an annoyed look.
"What now?" I asked, rather rudely, but I kept walking with her despite my better judgment. Her eye roll and continued hurried pace suggested she was clearly unappreciative of that fact, however. Psh.
"I," she announced dramatically, in an overly-loud whisper, "was just mauled by Laurie Shacklebolt and June Mackey!"
Now I was the one rolling my eyes.
Honestly. Where does she get this rubbish?
"Mauled?" I repeated flatly. "Truly, Gracie?"
"Practically," was Grace's quick response, waving off my dry objection with a careless flick of her hand. She clearly thought 'mauled' a proper description for whatever unfortunate confrontation had occurred between her and Hogwarts's favourite gossip gurus. I chose not to inform her that such a verb would require some serious physical damage, which I wasn't exactly objecting to, but seemed unlikely. I cocked an eyebrow at her, but at that point, I was pretty sure she was ignoring me. She just kept blabbing on. "Things are already a bit...out of hand," she said.
I stopped walking. "Out of hand?"
Grace stopped as well and turned to face me, idly scratching at the back of her neck. "You know how it is," she said, shrugging all skittishly. "What's 'out of hand', anyway? Laurie Shacklebolt spreading around the story that you accidentally walked in on Julie and Amos shagging, were denied acceptance into their dirty party, and grew so cross that you hexed Amos's bits into smaller bits? That's not so bad, is it?"
WHAT?
"Grace!" My mouth dropped open. I sputtered frantically. "W-what...you're lying, right? You made that up—please tell me you made that up!"
"Well," Grace said slowly. Then she winced. "She didn't actually say the part about the bits to smaller bits. It was just implied."
Oh, bloody hell.
"Oh my god," I moaned, burying my face in my hands and turning towards the wall, seriously considering banging my head against the stones and ending it all then and there. "Oh my god, Grace."
"It's not so bad," was Grace's sad attempt at comfort, placing a hand on my shoulder. "I mean, they could be saying that you actually joined in on the dirty party, then grew cross when Amos was paying too much attention to Julie, right?"
This time, I did bang my head against the wall. I hoped to kill as many brain cells as possible—preferably the ones that have to do with memory. "Oh, thanks, Gracie. Don't give them any ideas!"
One brain cell. Two brain cells. Three brain cells. Four—
"Oh, stop that!" Grace ordered, pulling me away from the wall that, unfortunately, had yet to do its job properly. I scowled fiercely at the interruption, but Grace wasn't having any of it. She shot me a look, as well. "Do you want to make this worse? Being seen trying to maim yourself against a wall isn't exactly a testament to your normal mental health state, Lil."
"I never claimed to have a normal mental health state," I muttered. Grace rolled her eyes.
"Yes, I know that, but most people are under the ridiculously false impression that you're actually rather right in the head, so let's play on their misconceptions and make it work for us, all right? Starting with walking. Can we continue on our way, please? Without any further head bashing?"
"What's the point?" I asked miserably, but started walking again, if only because the corridor was starting to fill up and—without the blurring effect of surprise—I realised I would really rather not be known as the Slaggish Head Girl Who Also Goes About Maiming Herself Against Stone Walls. I've had better titles. "I should have stayed in bed this morning."
"No, you shouldn't have," Grace insisted, grabbing my hand and guiding me in the opposite direction from where the Charms classroom was located. I glanced towards the proper corridor in confusion. Where were we going? "Come on," Grace said. "We'll go fetch James from Arithmancy. He'll make you less crabby."
Oh, for Merlin's sake.
"What? No! Grace, stop!" I stuck my feet in place, skidding to a halt and forcing Grace to stop, as well. She turned to me with a "What now?" sort of expression, but I didn't care. I was serious about this part. Quite suddenly, my heart was beating unevenly inside of my chest. "No James," I told her firmly, with a sharp shake of my head. "I'm serious, Grace. I don't want to drag him into the middle of this any more than I already have."
"Lil," Grace replied flatly, "he already is in the middle of it—he's practically the middle!"
"No, he's not," I insisted, crossing my arms stubbornly over my chest. I let out an annoyed huff when Grace only cocked an eyebrow. She just didn't get it. "They think he did it," I tried to explain. "They think he's the one who hexed Amos, Gracie."
"So?" Grace asked. "He wanted to."
"That's not the point!" I cried, and threw my hands up in frustration. "Don't you understand? I dragged him into this—all I've ever done since the very moment the two of us started being mates is drag him into my messes, time after time after time! But I'm not doing it anymore. I'm not tainting him or us or anything if I can help it. I want him out of this as much as he can be. So...so I don't care about what people are saying about me—don't correct them and don't defend me. Just make sure they aren't saying things about him, all right? That's what I want. That's your new damage control. I didn't want mine in the first place. Can you do that?"
I was breathing a bit raggedly by the time I got all that out, but I suddenly felt entirely clear-headed. Merlin, of course. Why hadn't I thought of this before? There was a way to keep James out of all of this—the same way Grace was trying to get me out of it. Fight words with words. Make everyone believe he had nothing to do with it. Grace knew what she was doing. She was a damage control extraordinaire. She could keep him off the slippery slope of gossipy slander. She could.
If only I could get her to agree.
"You're not making any sense," she replied, shaking her head. "It's not a choice of two extremes here, Lily. You don't have to defend him or defend yourself. You can—"
"Grace," I cut in, an inordinate amount of pleading entering my voice, "please. I'll do what I need to do for myself—I need to take care of it myself, for once in my bloody life. I'm asking you to take care of him."
"What do you expect me to say?" she snapped crossly. She was trying to start an argument. It was all there in her tone, not to mention her expression. "That he had nothing to do with you and Amos clashing, even before you found out about Julie? That you dragged him off last night to discuss Prefect rounds? Come on, Lily. Even if I could get people to believe that rubbish—which is merely a might be able to, by the way—James isn't going to like it."
"I don't care what he likes," I answered stubbornly, my will unbending. "It's for his own good. Detach him from the night, Grace. From the whole thing. I know you can do it."
Grace shook her head again, clearly not happy with this request, but I wasn't going to change my mind about it. Truth be told, I had spent most of Ancient Runes—well, the bits that I wasn't cursing Julie Little's existence, anyway—worrying about James and the position I had put him in. This cut-him-out plan had been composed on the spot and was probably not exactly foolproof, but it accomplished what I realised I really wanted—to keep James safe and clean and far away from my fallout. Our brief conversation about it and Emma's mention that he was a suspect had made me even more distressed over the whole situation than before. I knew that I didn't want anyone to take the fall for what I'd done, but it was somehow worse when it could be James.
What I'd said to Grace was true. Almost from the start, I'd been dragging him from mess to mess without break. And maybe he'd get cross with me for trying to erase his involvement in the night—mess's messes and all that—but I wasn't having him tainted by it. I didn't want him to be the sap who'd let me take advantage of him, no matter what other way he chose to see his role in last night. I didn't want him to be the angry beau who had to go off and defend me. He was better than that. He deserved better than that, since he really was neither. In a few days, this whole thing will have blown over and Hogwarts would be free to gossip about us as much as they cared to. But for now...no.
It'd be me. They could gossip all they wanted about me. Just not him.
Besides, I really did want to take care of my problems by myself for once. I don't know exactly what I'm going to tell people about last night, but I do know that I don't want Grace being the one to take care of it. She was there to protect James now. I was going to protect myself.
The girl in question was presently staring at me with pursed lips, clearly unhappy and as firm in that conviction as I was in mine. I was about to plead some more—I would beg and bribe if necessary. She would succumb—but I didn't get the chance. Before I could say a single imploring word, Grace's eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms.
"Here," she said moodily, waving an impatient hand in my direction. "You talk some sense into her."
I stared at her in confusion, not realising that she wasn't talking to me until a voice behind me went, "What?" and I turned to find Emma, Remus and—oh, naturally—James, standing right there next to us, all sporting similar looks of bewilderment. I winced.
Bugger.
Can't a girl have a little bloody privacy to plead?
"What's going on?" Emma asked, startled as Grace unceremoniously grabbed both her and Remus by their respective available limbs and began dragging them away without explanation. Emma kept shooting looks behind her shoulder at James and me, but Remus went along complacently, obviously intelligent enough to just go with it. They hadn't gotten more than a few meters away, though, before I stopped them with my sudden urgent shout of, "Grace!"
She stopped lugging the lot of them along long enough to turn and look at me.
"What?" she growled. I shot her my most desperate look.
"Please." I forced all the begging I could into the single word. "Please."
At first, I thought she was going to say no. She stared at me with clear displeasure, obviously cross with what I was asking, and I knew she was stubborn enough to ignore my wishes if she chose. But instead of shooting back a mule-headed rejection, she sighed loudly and stuck me with her darkest look. She nodded curtly, and the breath that I'd been holding in slipped past my lips in a relieved exhale.
"I'll do it until I'm told otherwise," she declared, and shot a look at James. "I expect to be told otherwise soon."
"Thank you," I said, and didn't bother to hide my gratefulness. Grace practically sneered, but I'd take that. She turned back around and strode off down the corridor, the others lumbering behind her in tow.
She was going to do it.
She was going to get James out of this mess.
Thank Merlin.
"All right," the man in question suddenly said, just as soon as the rest of them had wandered far enough away. I turned to him with as clear an expression as I could muster, calling on all my formidable lying skills to keep my unease in check. He was staring at me with narrowed eyes, clearly suspicious. "What was that about?"
I knew I had two options then, though I was of course going to take the less honest one—I could tell James the whole truth, about Grace looking out for him instead of me and how, damn the consequences, I was going to keep him out of the public rendition of last night as much as possible...or I could tell him only the partial truth, hoping that he'd never be the wiser about his involvement in my deal with Grace.
I had never been so grateful for my crap traitor-of-a-mouth. It does have its uses.
"I've asked Grace—as I'm going to ask you," I started slowly, "to please stop this silly damage control plan. I don't want you defending me—in fact, I don't want you saying anything at all. I'm going to take care of this mess myself. Let the rumours run rampant. Whatever is confirmed or denied will come directly from me. I don't think it's so much to ask."
James stared. His expression was blank.
"What?" he asked after a moment.
"Say nothing," I explained again, more concisely. "You know nothing. You have no idea what happened. You weren't involved."
He didn't look any more pleased by this second explanation. Bugger.
"So let me get this straight," is what he said next, his voice slow and dry. "Someone comes up to me and asks whether it's true that last night you caught Diggory shagging Julie Little, then threw a few Killing Curses in their direction, and I'm supposed to shrug and walk off?"
Killing Curses? Do I look like the homicidal sort?
Oh, all right. They do say there's always some truth to rumours.
"Yes," I answered, giving a firm nod. When all that got from James was an entirely irritated huff of breath, I added, "Feel free to say something along the lines of, 'That sounds ludicrous, but I have no idea. Why don't you ask Lily about it?' That'll work."
"No, that won't—" James cut himself off, his hands going straight to his hair and clenching there in frustration. He looked like he might not mind banging his head—or perhaps mine—against the nearest wall. I would have gladly told him been there, done that, but he didn't give me much of a chance. He turned on me all agitated and bothered. "Where is this coming from?" he demanded. "If this is some convoluted plan of yours to protect all of us from your fallout, Infallible, then you better rethink it."
I squirmed uncomfortably, hating how he knew exactly what I was about before I'd even had the chance to examine my own intentions extensively. But I reminded myself that I wasn't really lying—I wasn't protecting all of them, after all. Just him. That was quite an important difference.
"This isn't about that," I evaded, careful not to perjure myself too badly. "I know what I'm doing. It's my life and my problems. And while I'm thankful that you want to help, I've got to do this on my own. I can handle the rumours myself. I get to pick the solution—and this is the one I've chosen. If you respect me at all, you'll do as I ask."
"This isn't about respect!" James cried, taking a step closer to me. He was growing truly cross now—I could tell by the way his jaw was clenching—but I still wasn't backing down. I let him glare at me. "But if it was, you've just guaranteed that you'll lose about half of what you've got from everyone in Hogwarts if you let this shit run amuck! You can't defuse everything on your own, Lily!"
"Watch me!" I snapped, standing stiff in indignation. Now I was starting to get annoyed. "But even if I couldn't, it'd be my job to find a way to fix that! I'm not some wilting flower, James, all pathetic and dependent! Regardless of what it might seem like, I don't always need to go running to you every time something happens!"
"I'm not saying you have to! But you also don't—"
"Yes, I do."
"Lily—"
"Stop it! Just stop it!" I was nearly stomping in frustration. My arms lay rigid against my sides, my fingers tightly fisted. "Maybe I need to do this for myself, all right? Maybe I need this to make myself feel better about the whole thing. Can't I at least have that?"
This seemed to give James pause, if only for a moment. His jaw still clenched, but his rigid stance eased slightly. He was conflicted. If I made this about me, I realised, he would agree. The idea was humbling in the worst sort of way and probably would have broken my will with the guilt it brought if I wasn't equally as determined to see to his welfare.
"Please let me take care of this myself," I implored him softly, putting a hand on his tense arm. "I want to finish this on my own. You can help me by saying nothing. It's what I want, James."
I waited anxiously to see if this would finally push him over the edge. I prayed it would—prayed that he would agree and prayed more than that that this thing would work and that I could protect him as I wanted. If he didn't agree, nothing Grace would say could keep him out of it. Any measure she took to belittle his involvement in last night would be completely counteracted by his own comments on the situation. My only hope was him agreeing to remain silent. So I prayed and hoped and bribed and pleaded with any fate who would listen. Please, please let this work.
It took him about twenty seconds to finally give his curt nod. But he did. He did and I nearly sobbed in relief.
This would work. It would.
"Thank you," I said quietly, resisting the urge to hug all that absurd annoyance out of him, seeing as I don't think being seen all wrapped up in him in the middle of the corridor would really help the plan that was now possible. But I gave him my best smile and squeezed his arm thankfully. All I got for my appreciation was a grunt, but I was all right with that. He could be cross with me. In fact, that might be for the better. And it will all be worth it in the end. It really will.
It will.
Still Later, Still in Charms
Observant Lily: Day 37
Total Observations: 248
What happened? -EV
What? -LE
What happened when you spoke with James? Grace told me about our new orders to keep quiet. I'm assuming by the way that he trudged all broody into class and you've been scribbling all tense and madly into your diary ever since that he put up a fight. Has he not agreed?
No, he agreed. Not exactly willingly, but he did. That should make things easier for Grace.
What do you mean?
Didn't Grace tell you the real plan?
Real plan? No, she didn't say anything—probably because Remus was with us. What's the real plan? Please say that we don't actually have to keep quiet and can contradict these stupid rumours.
You can contradict James's involvement in any of these stupid rumours. That's the real plan. I don't want him caught up in this, Em. I'm not tainting him with all of this mess. I've told Grace to damage control him.
Oh.
You think I'm being foolish, don't you?
No. I think it's rather sweet, actually. But you don't need to deal with the rest of it on your own, Lil. And I'm sure James isn't exactly happy about you pushing him out of the whole situation.
I didn't tell him that I'm having Grace censor for him. I just told him he had to keep quiet. And yes, I do have to deal with the rest on my own. I want to fix this myself, Em. I'm independent so rarely. I'm striving to mature.
Can't we help you strive to mature?
I don't think it works like that.
I suppose you're right.
Mm-hm.
I'll keep quiet, then. Grace is going to be supremely disappointed that James didn't change your mind.
She'll get over it. Or she'll strangle me. Care to place a bet on which one?
I would, but you probably won't be around to collect my winnings from.
You're such a sensible girl, Em.
Even Later, Defense
Observant Lily: Day 37
Total Observations: 248
Hey, do you know what? Maybe I can actually do this. Maybe it won't be that bad.
"Hey, Evans!" Lars Larkin shouted just as Emma and I walked into the Defense classroom (we had left a less-than-pleased Grace doing her business somewhere behind us. I blew her kisses of thanks, but her only reply was a rather rude gesture I'd rather not describe). He was sitting with his stupid Slytherin mates and was smirking and leering like the utter git that he is. "Heard you had quite a night!"
"Most people's are, in comparison to yours," I shot back smoothly, lifting my chin up as haughtily as I dared. Emma and I strode past, and Lars sputtered and growled as his mates laughed.
"I'd toss you over, as well, stupid bint," he muttered crossly.
I let out my most derisive laugh. "Silly boy. You realise someone would have to agree to date you before you could toss them over, right?"
Lars turned an ugly shade of embarrassed red, but finally shut his trap. Emma and I took our seats at the front of the classroom.
"Well played," Emma whispered to me with a grin. I grinned back, filled with pride and—all right, I admit it—a bit of surprise at my own wit and talents.
Well played, indeed. I should be independent more often.
Later, Still in Defense
Observant Lily: Day 37
Total Observations: 248
What 7th Years choose to do with their lessons instead of paying attention to our very important Defense lecture:
Julie told me the truth about last night. You should be ashamed of yourself. –Kiki
EVANS,
THAT WAS REALLY FUNNY. I'D DATE YOU EVEN IF YOU HEXED MY NETHERS.
JERVIS RENNET
ARE YOU REALLY SHAGGING A PROFESSOR? WHICH ONE?
I don't blame Amos Diggory.
Unforgivables are illegal for a reason, you know.
CAN YOU HELP ME GET BACK AT MY EX-BOYFRIEND, AS WELL? HE'S A TOSSER.
Not so bad.
Right.
Later, Still in Defense
Observant Lily: Day 37
Total Observations: 251
Observation #249) I might be a bit more concerned over the fact that Dinah Smythe has just accosted me to inquire whether or not I intend to stay in school throughout my second and third trimesters if I wasn't already almost entirely numbed to life.
Observation #250) I might be a bit more concerned over the fact that Olivia Hoss then came up behind Dinah Smythe and muttered, "She's already in her second trimester, you inconsiderate cow!" if I wasn't already almost entirely numbed to life.
Observation #251) I should probably stop eating so much rice.
Later, Lunch in the Great Hall
Observant Lily: Day 37
Total Observations: 251
TO: LILY C. EVANS
THREE SEATS DOWN THE BENCH
EATING A SANDWICH
GREAT HALL, HOGWARTS
SCOTLAND, WORLD
Dear Miss L. Evans,
Contained below is a DETAILED AND ENTIRELY TRUTHFUL list of a random assortment of conversations I've heard with my own FINELY-TUNED EARS, but did not respond to with my CLEVER AND PERSUASIVE MOUTH, as per the crap orders I'm presently unjustifiably shackled to. Please review them carefully and thoroughly:
Item #1) "I heard that all she saw them doing was walking innocently along Snog Row—just went ballistic for no reason at all! Curses and hexes everywhere! There are scorch marks on the walls. Go on and look. I heard they're there!"
Item #2) "It was some sort of ritual sacrifice gone wrong. They needed a virgin and apparently Little and Evans aren't exactly the whitest, if you know what I mean."
Item #3) "Whose baby do you reckon it is? Do you think she knows?"
Item #4) "…that's just wrong. The true story is that it was Julie and Lily who were caught together. Lesbians. Didn't you know?"
.
.
.
.
[This additional space is to allow you some time to wallow properly in shame and regret. Go on. Cry.]
.
.
.
.
There were also a selected few remarks that I did, as per orders, choose to comment on and alter appropriately, but I'm sure you'll understand after reading the above list why I am now avidly boycotting sharing those particular tidbits with you, both out of spite and bitterness, and because you clearly do not deserve the satisfaction. If you'd like to hear about these, you know what to do. I am actively awaiting a desperate, replying correspondence altering my present orders. Thank you.Yours Sincerely Though Not Happily,
COLONEL GRACE REYNOLDS
Bit Later, Still at Lunch in the Great Hall
Observant Lily: Day 37
Total Observations: 251
TO: Colonel Grace Reynolds
Three Seats to My Left
Groping Christopher Lynch
Great Hall, Hogwarts
Scotland, World
Dear Colonel Reynolds,
Thank you for your informative and meticulous report. The items were interesting to hear and have given me a new perspective on life—i.e. don't mess around with ritual sacrifices (even if such a thing would not, as I think we both know, have backfired, seeing as…well, yeah).
I am quite pleased to inform you that I have already personally dealt with both Item #1 ["I'm sorry, Christa Forrester, can you show me these marks?"] and Item #4 ["I know that all the way back in fourth year, Michael Davies chose me over you, but I'm no more a lesbian now than I was then, Josie Bennett. I think it's time to let that one go."]. I presume that Item #3 will take care of itself in due time (as long as I cut back on the comfort rice) and that people will soon recall the fact that, up until only a few weeks ago, I was still Hogwarts's resident prude. Good-bye, Item #2.
.
.
.
.
[This additional space is to allow you some time to properly grit your teeth in frustration and angrily shake your fist towards the heavens. Go on. Curse away.]
.
.
.
.
Your blackmail is impressive, but your orders remain the same. It's a pleasure to be working with you, Colonel.
Yours With Fond Affection (Though Not For Your Blatant PDA. You're Making Me Vomit),
LILY CHRISTINE EVANS
Later, Transfiguration
Observant Lily: Day 37
Total Observations: 251
Why won't people just shut up?
No, I don't want to talk. No, I don't want to answer your questions. No, I don't want to hear your thoughts on bitter females seeking unfair retribution. No, I don't want to read your notes, hear your whispers, feel your stares or take your morning after potion, which, by the by, don't you think it would be a little late for? No, no, no, no.
Kill me now. Seriously, just kill me now.
Ah. Transfiguration. Perfect.
Even Later, Divination
Observant Lily: Day 37
Total Observations: 252
Observation #252) Though it's often easy to forget it, there are occasionally the selected few residents of Hogwarts who are not evil, gossipy, pathetic buggers.
Professor Freeman—in an attempt to make my already rather shit day worse, I'm sure—decided that this afternoon would be the perfect time to begin a partnered project, and then proceeded to pair Grace and Emma together, leaving me with a stranger-of-a-boy from Ravenclaw who I'm relatively certain I have never spoken to in my entire life.
Much thanks, Professor. Love you, too.
Gazing wistfully after Grace and Emma as they scooted over towards the other side of the room to begin working (or to begin not working, as I truly believe the case to be), I sighed forlornly, watching as my partner made his way over towards me. I'd seen him before, of course—you don't go to a school as small as Hogwarts without knowing most people by sight if not by name—but today was just not the day to be making new mates. When he finally reached my spot, he plopped himself down on the cushion previously vacated by Gracie and grinned.
"Hello," he greeted cheerfully, sticking out his hand to me. "Name's Rob Harms. Rhymes with Charms."
Um.
Yeah.
"Name's Lily Evans," I replied, placing my hand in his and shaking tentatively. "I don't know what that rhymes with."
"Heavens," Rob provided with a grin. "Leavens."
"Leavens?" I repeated dryly. I dropped my hand back down to my lap. "Well, there's a word you hear quite often."
Rob laughed at this, dropping his hand down, as well. "See, but that's the thing about rhyming—the less sense, the less dense! Strange thing, rhyming. A bit mad, but not bad."
He was smiling so brightly as he said this, and he wiggled his eyebrows at me like James sometimes does, and it was all just so silly and stupid and I don't even know what else and, for Merlin's sake, the kid was speaking awful verse in daily conversation…I laughed. Genuinely, really laughed. Loudly and earnestly. It was the first time in several hours that I had even had the idea to do so.
Oh, god, it felt good.
Thank you, Rob Harms. Thank you.
"Right then," Rob said, reaching down to grab his Divination book from his bag. When he straightened back out, he plopped the book down on the table with a loud thump. "Hope you don't mind me saying so," he started, with a slightly less bright grin. My heart sank inside my chest. Of, course. Great. Here it comes. "But now that we're acquainted and all, I just thought I should let you know that I think Amos Diggory is a bloody nancy-boy berk and I can only hope that any hex or curse ever sent his way managed to hit its proper mark. Hard."
Oh.
Oh.
Oh.
"Do you know something, Rob-Harms-Rhymes-With-Charms?" I said a few seconds later, after my brain had started functioning properly again and I could make words leave my mouth. I gave him my very best smile. "I think that's one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me. Thank you."
Rob shrugged and his smile got bright again. "My pleasure, treasure," he said, flipping open his book. "Now, let's make shite up, yeah?"
I agreed with a nod and another laugh, and we did get down to work. Well, sort of. Truth be told, Rob's actually been doing most of the work, creating a whole slew of rhyming predictions ("When the sun sets in the east, beware of the thorny beast!"), but I'm contributing occasionally ("At the moon's red hue, watch for the birth of something new!"). It's not my fault that I am clearly the amateur of the group. Rob-the-Heartthrob (two guesses who picked that one) has straight O's in Divination. He says Freeman practically wets herself when he gives her his assignments. She thinks he's a true seer. Rob and I had a good, long laugh over that one.
You know, maybe today's not so rotten.
My troubles, it seems, are forgotten.
Har, har.
Later Later, 7th Year Girls' Dormitory
Observant Lily: Day 37
Total Observations: 252
Well, that contentment lasted all of three minutes.
Shit.
Double bloody fucking shit.
"Well, here's something shocking. Hiding up here in shame, are you, Evans? I don't blame you, I suppose. I'd be mortified if I'd been publicly chucked, as well."
Dear Elisabeth Saunders,
Shut. Up.
Love, Lily.
"Pity that everyone found out, Evans." Why is Carrie Lloyd talking to me? Seriously. Why? "You probably shouldn't have hexed Diggory. Really bitter, don't you think?"
Oh my god, go away.
"She is bitter, Car. And alone. Sad, isn't it?"
That's it.
"Excuse me, girls. Things to see, people to do. I believe James is expecting me. S'later!"
Ha.
Later, Outside on the Courtyard Steps
Observant Lily: Day 37
Total Observations: 252
All right, So on a scale of one to ten, the maturity level of that last comment was probably around a 1.3. I am properly ashamed.
But whatever. I've already matured quite enough today. I've spent all day maturing. I needed a break. Besides, maybe it wasn't so much immaturity as it was showing some backbone. I need to do that more often, don't I? Of course, I do. And while I'm not exactly sure if trying to incite one's more-or-less-mate-with-potential's ex-girlfriend by lying about the fact that you're off to go find him and sexually abuse him is really that grand a sign of backbone, it's certainly notnot one. I could have sat there and taken all that cruelty, after all. But I didn't. I was properly ruffled and acted accordingly. So…yeah.
And while I could be embarrassed over the fact that I've yet again made a public statement about James's and my less-than-platonic relationship…well, I won't be. I mean, the pair of them were there yesterday. They saw how absurdly obvious I was about it then. Moreover, if there was anyone in the world who should be aware of the whole more-or-less-mates-with-potential-with-an-emphasis-on-the-potential-bit situation, it's Elisabeth Saunders. We can't have the girl getting any ideas, after all.
I mean, not that James would…right. Of course not. Most significant person, remember? He said that. About me. He did.
I wonder if he ever said anything like that to...no.
No, no.
Out, damn thoughts, out.
I can't even—
"You're wrong, Remus. You're fucking wrong."
"You're not listening! She's not the problem and you can't—"
Oh, hell.
Like I really need this now.
Later Later, Still Outside on the Courtyard Steps
Observant Lily: Day 37
Total Observations: 253
There was nowhere to hide. I thought about it—don't think I didn't—but I was sitting there on the stairs, open space all around, and the only possibility of disappearance lay in a quick dash around the corner of the castle off to my left which, as karma would have it, was exactly where the voices were coming from. There was no escape. I was trapped and I knew it. If I tried scurrying back inside the castle now, they would surely see my retreat and would undoubtedly realise I'd scampered away like a coward or would perhaps believe that I had heard things I shouldn't have—which I actually hadn't, but they wouldn't know that. Either way, neither option was particularly appealing. I might have started to panic then, but my annoyance with the whole situation fortunately trumped that particular anxiety impulse.
Because, really, why should I have to hide? This was a public place, wasn't it? These are my grounds as much as they're theirs and if they don't want their conversations overheard, then maybe they shouldn't be talking so loudly. I mean, anyone can be around. Yes, indeed. Anyone at all!
So I didn't try to hide. In fact, I didn't try to mask the fact that I'd heard their approach at all, not even bothering to look down and feign scribbling something in here in order to appear more casual. Instead, I sat up straight and stared defiantly towards my left. I was ready. I was dignified. Come what may.
They came around the corner quickly, both looking wound up.
"—you can't get that, but if you don't leave off her, he's going to—oh."
Remus stopped cold in his steps, his words stopping in their tracks, as well. He stared at me blankly, unblinking, as if I'd just caught him in some sort of nefarious act. At his abrupt halt, Sirius stopped, as well, staring at his mate in confusion. When he saw where Remus was staring, he turned. His eyes locked with mine. It took mere seconds for his annoyed expression to curl into an exasperated sneer. Despite the scorn in his look, I refused to cringe.
"Fucking brilliant," he snapped. "Don't you go away?"
"I have as much a right to be here as you do," I replied primly, lifting my chin stubbornly. "I'm sorry that you had the terrible misfortune of crossing paths with me."
Sirius snorted crossly. "Terrible misfortune. That's one way of putting it."
Oh, for Merlin's sake.
"You know, Sirius—"
"Not now, Evans," Sirius interrupted, and was already walking again. Shooting Remus a parting glance over his shoulder that I couldn't quite see, he strode right past me and up the steps, his footsteps quick and heavy. I refused to watch him storm off, but I heard the front doors open with a long creak, then fall closed with a resounding slam. I winced, closing my eyes and letting out a heavy sigh.
Well, that went spectacularly.
"You can go, as well," I muttered miserably to Remus, opening my eyes and lifting my head. He was still gazing towards the doors, a grim frown on his face. "I suppose you hate me, as well. That's fine."
"I don't hate you," Remus said, finally glancing down at me. "And Sirius doesn't, either."
I snorted quite indelicately at that. I was inclined to believe the first bit—it was unfair of me to accuse such a thing of Remus. He had never been anything but kind to me—but the latter was hardly an easily accepted claim. Sirius had said as much during detention, of course—that he didn't really have a problem with me, or some other such rubbish, I mean—but that was before. At some point between now and then, I had the distinct feeling that that had changed.
I waved my hand towards the doors behind me. "What do you call that, then? Love and affection at its best?"
Remus went to reply, then seemed to think better of it. His mouth creased into a deep frown. He looked tired and conflicted. I took this to mean that he understood my point, even if he was reluctant to air it out in the open. I probably would have been, as well, but I had already had a pretty crap morning and only a slightly-improved afternoon, so I was in no mood to be nancy-footing around this codswallop. And maybe it was just the fact that I was striving to be a more independent person, but I was suddenly entirely fed up with Sirius Black and his nasty attitude.
Because, yes, from beginning until now, I've made about a million mistakes where James is concerned—and do you know what? I'll probably make about a million more. I'm sorry I'm not perfect. I'm sorry that everything I do always seems to have some tint of wrong to it. I'm sorry that I'm not the most trusting of witches and I don't like change and that James got the bad end of that stick. I'm sorry. But from the looks of things, James has accepted all of this. And I don't know why the hell he puts up with me either, but for as long as he does, can't Sirius just back off? Can't he realise that I'm not some horrible, terrible, man-eating, selfish brat? Because I'm not. I'm a lot of things, not all of them particularly lovely, but I'm not that wretched. And I am so bloody sick of trying to get people to believe that.
I am so sick of stupid Sirius Black.
Or maybe I'm just sick of the entire world in general. But whatever. Sirius is part of that world, isn't he? Exactly.
I sat there fuming, growing more and more cross by the moment, giving up my stare contest with Remus in order to give another derisive look over my shoulder in hopes that my glares could somehow penetrate the Hogwarts walls and reach their desired target. I wished Sirius had stayed outside so that I could give him hell. I wished that Remus would just leave so that I could seethe in peace. But the opposite happened in both cases—Sirius remained inside, entirely unaware and unscathed, while Remus let out a quiet sigh before taking a seat down on the steps beside me.
Lovely.
Like I was really in the mood for a chat.
"Look," Remus said slowly, in that quiet, solemn voice of his. "There's...there's a lot that you don't understand, Lily."
Well, thanks graciously for that one, Remus. I never would have known.
Psh.
The look I gave him was probably not my friendliest, but come on, he deserved it.
"It's not for lack of trying," I shot back bitterly, kicking moodily at the stone stairs with the toe of my shoe. "But I'll tell you one thing, Remus Lupin—I'm not stupid, all right? There are certain things I don't need to be told to understand. And I know that this is all over me. I'm right, aren't I? Why James and Sirius are fighting? It's because of me."
"No," Remus denied instantly, shaking his head. "No, Lily, it's—"
"Don't lie to me!" I snapped. "I'm so bloody sick of being lied to! I'm just as—"
"I'm not lying to you!" Remus cried, sounding more incensed than I think I've ever heard him. Even in my surprise, my eyes narrowed suspiciously. Remus just shook his head again, clearly frustrated. "I'm not lying," he told me again. "Hell, I wish I were. Merlin knows it'd be a lot damned simpler if it were about it you. Unfortunately, you're just getting the blame for the bigger problem."
Blame for the bigger problem?
But...
I stared at him silently, still mostly dubious, though now it was tainted with some bothersome uncertainty. Could...could he be telling the truth? I mean, James had said practically the same thing that morning in the Common Room—he had called me a scapegoat—but I thought that he'd just been trying to keep me out of it, sparing my feelings. James would do that…but would Remus? I stared at him critically and wondered. Did he have a reason to lie? If there was an obvious motive other than following along with James's story, I couldn't see it. But still…
Could it really not be about me?
"Explain it to me, then," I prodded stubbornly, pushing my advantage. "If it's not me, then what is it?"
Remus's frown deepened. He turned away from me, resting his arms on his propped knees and dropping his head down to hang in seeming defeat. I wasn't sure if this was a good sign or a bad one. Either way, I didn't dare move—didn't even breathe. When the pair of them had appeared around the corner, this certainly was not what I'd imagined the confrontation would lead to. But if Remus would give me some insight into this bloody James-Sirius madness, I would readily listen. Then maybe I could try to figure out what was to be done about it.
Now he just had to start talking.
"Remus," I said quietly, waiting until he'd lifted his head and looked at me again before I continued to speak. His eyes flickered with something that gave me hope. "Please tell me. I only want to understand. And whether or not you all care to admit it, I'm part of this now—scapegoat or not, it still involves me. "
"It's…complicated," Remus replied slowly, seeming to be thinking very carefully about each of the words that left his mouth. "I can't explain it all. There are things….things James will explain to you when he's ready, if he wants to. A lot happened to him last year. He doesn't like to talk about it himself, I highly doubt he'd want me talking about it. Especially to you."
"That's fair," I conceded, feeling a bit guilty over the fact that Sirius had obviously disagreed with Remus—or at least overruled his better inclinations enough to tell me what had happened last year. But I couldn't let Remus know that. If I actually was just a scapegoat, I wouldn't be for much longer if Sirius ever found out that I'd let it slip that he'd told me the truth about James last year. I was already high enough on that shit list, thank you very much. "I'm not asking you to tell me things you shouldn't," I told Remus next, even though that was pretty much exactly what I was doing. "I just...want to start feeling like the scapegoat rather than the evil shrew tearing James's life apart. You understand that, don't you?"
"You're not tearing his life apart," Remus said, shaking his head. "Quite the opposite. This is the happiest I've seen him in...a really long time. Even with all this other rubbish going on. That's you, Lily."
Oh, hell. My face flushed an undoubtedly obnoxious shade of crimson as I sputtered a pathetic sort of, "Oh. No. No, I'm sure...I mean..."
"Trust me," Remus said, and now there was a bit of a smile pulling at the end of his lips. "It's you."
"Oh." I was now entirely red to the very tips of my hair. My stomach began fluttering all pathetically. "Well, that's...that's good."
Remus nodded. "I think so." But then he looked away, his gaze shifting to the grounds spread out before us. A soft sigh fell from his lips. "I think so," he said again. "But..."
"Sirius doesn't agree," I finished for him, stomach flutters dying almost instantly. I looked towards the grounds, as well. "Right."
"It's not that," Remus insisted. "Or not exactly, anyway."
"Then what is it exactly?"
"Lily...I don't know—"
I shot him a dirty look. "Honestly, Remus, I already told you—I just want to understand! I'm not asking you to divulge all your deepest and darkest here. All I'm asking is for a little bit of insight."
I was hoping that my earnest imploring would crack some of the apparent armour Remus had wrapped so tightly around him, but I'm not sure if I succeeded. He let out a long breath of air, shaking his head. His forehead furrowed into a series of worn winkles that looked far too comfortable in their creased position for this sort of thing to be anything but a usual occurrence. That was hardly surprising—Remus is one of the most serious blokes I know—but at that moment, it worried me. Too much thought was not going to be good in this situation. I wanted answers—an answer, any answer—and somehow, I didn't think I would get a single thing if I left the idea brewing too long. Remus wasn't impulsive like Sirius. He was sensible and meticulous and if I gave him too much time to think this over, he'd remember that James, for whatever stupid reason , didn't want me to know about this. Then he'd close up.
He could not close up. Not now. I absolutely wouldn't let him.
Luckily, I didn't have to fight for it. Thoughtlessly or not, Remus eventually spoke.
I sighed in relief.
"James has changed a lot over the past few years," he started softly, looking out at the grounds again. "Last year, this year…he's been through a lot."
"I know," I said without thinking.
Remus's head instantly jerked up.
"You know?"
Shit.
Stupid, stupid mouth. Why don't you ever shut up?
"Not why," I covered up quickly, fighting off the urge to smack my head against the nearest hard surface. Damn it, damn it. "But I remember what he was like," I went on, lying through my teeth. "I know he's not the same as he is now. But I'm grateful for it. He's a better person now."
"Better, maybe...but is he the same person?"
My mouth dropped open.
Same…what?
"Same person?" I sputtered, hardly believing what I was hearing. "What do you mean, 'is he the same person'? Of course, he's the same person! He's...I mean...how could you even..."
Remus dropped his head back down by his knees, letting out a quiet sigh that I might not have heard had I not been sitting right there next to him. His hands came together in a tense sort of clasp. He seemed to be staring at some step just past our feet.
"For the better part of the first five years I'd known James, he'd always been the same person," he told me, his voice almost flat. "You know how he was—that obvious confidence, that arrogance that made him think he was invincible. It's just who he was. It rarely occurred to him to think that things wouldn't work out in his favour eventually. He was a good person, even if he wasn't always the most selfless. He was a good mate." Slowly, Remus lifted his head. His sharp glance stuck on me. "He was Sirius's best mate."
Something about the way Remus said that—Sirius's best mate—made something click inside of my head. Suddenly, I remembered something Sirius had said that night in detention, something I hadn't paid much attention to when so much else I'd been told that night had taken precedence. Now, however, it didn't seem so insignificant.
"That was my James. How he used to be. That kid didn't have a care in the world, except when it came to his mates and his family. And you, occasionally. Not like that now."
Not like that now.
He'd said it almost bitterly.
Merlin.
Is that…
"James went through a lot at the beginning of sixth-year," Remus went on, oblivious to the whirlwind of questions swarming through my head. I stared blankly at him, hardly able to listen. "He wasn't himself. He was…I don't know if you remember, but he—"
"I remember," I said, almost automatically, though these were memories given to me by Sirius, not ones that I really recalled myself. "He was out of control. He didn't care about anything. He wasn't the same."
"No, he wasn't." Remus's eyes went sharp again. He didn't say anything else.
Well, that wouldn't do.
"But he's not like that anymore," I prodded, hoping my interjection would goad Remus on. "He's fine now. And that's a good thing, isn't it? He's back to normal."
Remus's eyebrow instantly shot up.
"Normal?" he asked flatly. "That's rather relative, isn't it?"
Rather relative?
"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked.
"James isn't normal, Lily—not in the sense that he's back to who he once was. He's not even close."
He's not even close.
But...that couldn't be...of course, he was...
I swallowed hard. Remus's words hung heavy in the air around us. There were things I wanted to say—protests mostly, though there were a multitude of questions and comments bursting to get out, as well—but not a single word made it past by lips. I was floundering. I was desperate. I was...Merlin, I couldn't breathe.
It couldn't be true. Remus was wrong. He was so wrong.
"James spent the better part of the end of last year trying to atone for the first half," Remus began to explain, clearly not having the verbal difficulties I was so struggling with. "He wasn't himself then, either—he was better, certainly, and Merlin knows we were all grateful he'd snapped out of it his funk, but he wasn't the same. He was constantly on edge, always watching every step he made—a far cry away from the James Potter we'd known. By summer, he'd mellowed some, started coming back into himself, and we all reckoned that going back to school would be the final step. But then—"
"He started up with me," I finished for him, words finally coming. "And he never fully changed back. Is that what you're saying?"
Remus paused only a moment, then nodded.
Oh, bloody hell.
"That wasn't me!" I protested instantly, sitting up straighter. "Merlin, Remus, it wasn't me. He's grown up! He went through something and it changed him! With or without me, he never would have been the same!"
"Lily—"
"No!" I interrupted, desperate to get this across. "That's the biggest piece of rubbish I've ever heard! What sort of imbecile would think that James would change because of me? It's—"
"The Sirius sort of imbecile," Remus interrupted, effectively breaking off my frantic tirade. He stuck me with a stern look that actually managed to shut me up. "You've got to see it from his perspective, Lily. He's wrong, but he's not crazy. He's watched James go through hell and back—we all have—and wrong or right, he equates James finally being fine again with turning back into his old self. He wants his best mate back. He thinks that this new mature streak James has going is still him trying to atone for something. And he thinks that now he's atoning for you."
Atoning for me?
What?
"Atoning for me?" I repeated. "How…what does that even mean?"
Remus put a hand to his forehead, scratching at the deep crevices still in place there. He sighed heavily, but explained.
"Sirius thinks James is pretending to be someone else for you," he said slowly, carefully. "He says that James has always had it in his head that you would only ever give him the time of day if he was this sort of paragon, and that his final act of atonement for everything that happened last year would be to become that paragon. And that's what's stopping him from turning back into his old self. That's why Sirius is so cross," Remus told me firmly. "Not because he hates you. Not because he thinks you're a terrible person. It's because he doesn't think James is being himself with you and no matter how happy he seems now, that will eventually make James miserable. And he wants James happy."
He wants James happy.
Oh...bugger.
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
"I want James happy, too," I said quietly, unable to look at Remus's stern gaze anymore. My eyes fell to the ground, and then closed tiredly. My head was a jumbled mess. It hurt to think. "But it's not…I'm not the reason he's not changing back into that person in fifth-year, Remus. I mean, maybe he is trying...I never thought about...but that's not all. It can't be all. I'm not the only reason. I'm not."
"I know that," Remus said, placing a supportive hand on my shoulder. It actually did very little, but I appreciated the gesture nonetheless. "And James knows it, as well. He says he's just cursed to be surrounded by people who are so suspicious of change that they'll grasp onto every irrational excuse they can."
Oh.
Er.
Hm.
"Right," I muttered weakly, and glanced up to see that Remus was actually looking a bit amused. His lips quirked slightly at the ends. "Me."
"You," Remus said, and dropped his hand from my shoulder. His small smile dropped, as well. "Give them some time," he advised. "Sirius has been fighting off accepting that James isn't the same person he was for a long time. And maybe James does need to figure out who exactly he is without trying to fit into anyone's mold of him. Unfortunately, they're both too bloody stubborn to admit they're wrong, but they'll figure it out eventually. I reckon that the rest of us will just have to be a bit patient in the meantime. And you do make James happy, Lily. Don't forget that."
I nodded, but couldn't get any actual words out. Somehow, the sentiment that had all of ten minutes earlier made my stomach a giddy mess no longer held the same appeal. I didn't want to look too much into that. Remus left soon after that, with nothing more than a look that said this conversation had never happened. I rather wish it hadn't. I watched him go without really paying attention.
And now…Merlin, I don't know. I just don't know anymore.
Am I forcing James into some sort of mold that he's not? I mean, I know he's a different person and that's not my doing—look at what the boy went through, for Merlin's sake! Anyone would be different after all that!—but is he...I mean…
Oh, hell.
Things were so much simpler when Sirius Black just hated me.
Continued in PART TWO