Prompt: This isn't what it looks like.
Hogwarts 1975 (Fifth Year)
Lily was up at the crack of dawn, unable to contain her excitement. The second the clock struck eight, she roused her reluctant roommates and shepherded them down to breakfast.
"What's your rush, Lily?" asked a knowing Marlene McKinnon.
"No rush," Lily said airily, continuing their charade of nonchalance. "I just like to have a good breakfast before all the good pastries are gone!" Marlene shook her head with a slight roll of her eyes, but indulged her friend. Lily did her best not to run on a full out sprint to the great hall, but found herself quickly outpacing Marlene. "Come on, Mar!" she called.
There was no guarantee the note would find her at breakfast. The first one had, and so had the majority since then; but sometimes they would appear in her textbooks, tucked away in her bag, or most puzzlingly– slipped under their dorm room door.
The first had been dropped on her plate with the rest of the owl post, but no owl had delivered it. It was a simple parchment that read:
You look really pretty today.
She had whipped her head this way and that, searching for whoever was playing such a cruel prank. No one stood out to her. Even Potter and his gang seemed oblivious– and they were her usual suspects for something like this.
A week later, she got another note. Again, it was dropped on her plate with the owl post; but again, it had no owl deliverer.
You should wear your hair like that all the time.
Self-consciously, her hand flew to her head to pat the loose curls Mary had charmed into her hair, and the accompanying gold bow woven through. It was a quidditch day, and Mary had convinced Lily to let her do her hair for the game. With the gold ribbon and her red hair, Mary reasoned, she was the perfect embodiment of Gryffindor spirit. Lily had rolled her eyes, personally thinking she looked a little silly wearing bows in her hair at age fifteen.
"Did you write this?" she accused Mary, shoving the note under her nose.
Mary took a moment to read the note. "No, not me!" she said with a smile, "But see! I am right. At least someone agrees with me. Who sent it?"
"No idea," Lily mumbled, scanning the great hall to try to find the potential culprit. And just like the week before, no one else in the great hall seemed any the wiser to the goings on of her morning.
The notes continued in a similar fashion. The scroll of parchment would be dropped on her plate with the post, but no owl to deliver it.
Your eyes are like emeralds.
I think you are the most beautiful witch in the entire castle.
Don't let the Slytherins get you down. They're just jealous. Not everyone can have brains AND beauty.
Your smile is infectious.
A few days later, when she'd been having a particularly bad day in transfiguration, she got the next note. It was when she'd sat down in the library to try to review the chapter again, and instead of an owl-less delivery– the note fell out of her transfiguration textbook.
Chin up, Evans. You're a bright witch. I found the book's diagram to be most unhelpful. Try chapter nine, page 204, for a more accurate depiction of the wand movement needed.
How had it gotten in her book? Her secret admirer (a title that brought Marlene and Mary to tears with laughter– but really, how else was she supposed to describe him?) was obviously crafty, and at least knew of her trouble with transfiguration, or was one of the students in her class. Setting aside her transfiguration work, she pulled out a sheet of fresh parchment and made a list of every student in her transfiguration class. At least now she had a list of suspects to go off of.
Then the next day, the note was slid under her door.
I've found that a combination of pumpkin juice and a cleansing charm does wonders to remove flobberworm guts from fabric.
She glanced at the note, then back at her robes that were dripping in the stuff. How did he know? How had he gotten the note here so fast? It had only been in this period that one of the Slytherins had decided to blow up their flobberworm instead of examining it for spots, as they'd been instructed to, drenching Lily in the disgusting innards of the creature. She'd been excused from class, and told to burn her robes– since they wouldn't be salvageable.
Shedding her robes, Lily quickly jotted down a list of everyone in her care of magical creatures class to cross-check with her previous list from transfiguration. The number of students who she shared both classes with made her suspect lists unusable. She shared both classes with the majority of students from her year, due to their necessity for O.W.L.s. But most curiously, the students who could be crossed off her lists were Potter's group of hell raisers (the marauders, as they'd taken to calling themselves) and Sev. Neither shared both classes with her. With her top suspects off of her list, she was back at the drawing board.
Marlene and her other roommates mocked her endlessly for her slight infatuation with her secret admirer. But, really. Who wouldn't? He complimented her physical attributes– but not in the slightly creepy, leering, way most boys in their year were wont to do. But more than that, her secret admirer acknowledged her intelligence and her drive to do well in classes. He helped her out of scrapes, and always seemed to know when she needed a little cheering up. And he was obviously intelligent and crafty himself. How else could he have delivered all these notes anonymously? She'd taken to saving the notes, and pulling them out when she was feeling down. Her favorite had arrived under her door just last week:
I wish you could see you how I see you. You are absolutely radiant, and you make everyone around you shine a little brighter just for having known you.
James checked the map to make sure Lily and her roommates were all down at breakfast. Confirming their location down at the great hall, he summoned his broom and walked down to the common room– scroll of parchment in one hand, broom in the other. It had taken him many painful attempts to determine that the stairs to the girls' dormitories would not be fooled by any charms or spellwork. His ingenious solution had been to not take the stairs at all. The first time he'd tried it, he was sure the magic guarding the dormitories would simply spit him out– as it had in all his previous attempts. But to his shock and amazement, he'd made it to the fifth year girls' dormitories successfully atop his broom. Hovering as close as he could get to the ground, without touching the stairs, James carefully slid the piece of parchment under the door.
The clearing of a throat behind him nearly startled him off his broom.
"What do you think you're doing?" McKinnon asked, arms crossed and one eyebrow raised in suspicion.
"It's not what it looks like!"
"Oh really? Because it looks like you're trying to break into the girls' dorms. What was this? Some weird dare from Sirius to steal Lily's knickers or something? Disgusting, James."
He blanched at the accusation. "Mar, I swear that is absolutely not what is happening. Sirius doesn't even know I'm up here."
He watched as understanding crept across Marlene's face. Then she burst out laughing. Full bodied laughs that had her bracing herself on her knees to keep herself upright. "Oh, this is too good!" she managed between fits of laughter, "You. You, James Potter, are the secret admirer– the one Lil's infatuated with! Well, not so secret, I guess."
He couldn't help the hope that rose in his chest, despite Marlene's continued laughter at the situation. Evans was infatuated with her secret admirer– so by extension, him? But how would she feel if she found out it was him sending those notes? Oh, she'd surely hex him into the next year. "Mar!" he shouted over her roaring laughter, "Mar!" Her laughs quieted and she wiped the tears of laughter from her eye, finally looking at him– amusement etched in her features. "Mar, you cannot tell Evans it was me. Ok?"
"Why not? Isn't this your dream, Jamesie?"
"No, Mar, if she finds out it was me this whole time she'll just think it was one big joke or something! She'll never give me the time of day!" he couldn't help the rising panic in his voice, and she seemed to hear it too.
"Alright, alright," Marlene acquiesced. "I won't tell Lily. But you owe me, Potter."
James breathed a sigh of relief. "What? Fifteen years of friendship hasn't been enough?" he teased. "Do you want me to start sending you love notes too?"
"Ugh, you're a prat!" Marlene accused good naturedly. "I won't tell Lily, but you have to come clean at some point, James. She has to know eventually."
"I know, I know. I'm just waiting for the right time."
"Well, don't wait too long!" Marlene turned and headed back down the stairs. "Or you might miss your chance!" she tossed the parting comment over her shoulder at him.
But all James could focus on was a comment Marlene had made, playing on repeat in his head. "You're the one Lil's infatuated with." And he couldn't stop the broad smile that spread across his face.