Petal in the Rain

Chapter 4- Hide and Seekin'

If we were children I would bake you a mud pie
Warm and brown beneath the sun
Never learned to climb a tree, but I would try
Just to show you what I'd done

Oh what I wouldn't do
If I had you babe, I had you.

-A Fine Frenzy

A shaft of dancing light pierced the bay windows, warming Lily's sleeping face. She wore a serene smile, the product of one of the happiest sleeps she had ever had...

…then it came to a crashing end.

Lily jerked awake, the established quiet shattered by a crooked, knobby-legged creature who had accidentally dropped a silver tray of biscuits and tea.

"Wah?" Lily muttered as she sat upright, squinting through swollen lids at the scene before her. As her eyes adjusted, she took in the quivering, bony frame of a wrinkled little hobgoblin with eyes the circumference of dinner plates. She blinked, frozen in shock as the gnome-like being matched her stare with a mixture of fear and anxiety, its bulbous eyes beginning to well over with tears.

She realized she wasn't dreaming anymore.

Throughout the corridors of Potter Manor—a usually peaceful dwelling—there echoed two pronounced screams, one of which belonged to James' newest houseguest.

While noshing on poached eggs and rye toast in the main kitchen, James heard Lily's mangled cry and sprang up from the barstool he occupied, sending it flying backwards into a cabinet full of glassware. Realizing her screaming was coming from his bedroom, he abandoning breakfast food and pounded up the carpeted stairs toward Lily's bawling.

Entering a hallway housing multiple door frames and fresco paintings in a full-out sprint, James came to a halt when he noticed Percival, one of the manor's house-elves, lying in front of his bedroom door with his fingers stuck in his ears, trying to mask the screaming. Timidly, the house-elf looked up at him.

"M-M-M-Mas-Master!" the tearful house elf stuttered, crawling toward James' feet and laying his rotund head on the lord's shoes. "I d-d-didn't mean to awake the miss! I is s-s-s-so clumsy and I—"

"Don't worry," James reassured hurriedly, helping Percival to his feet. "You mustn't let it happen again, understand? Our house guest is a muggle; she doesn't know we're a mansion full of wizards and elves."

"M-M-Master! Percival is s-s-s-sorry!" the house elf sobbed, his chicken legs quaking and upper lip trembling uncontrollably.

"Stop crying, Percival. I need you to do something for me," James pressed, patting the creature's back. "You must silence all the portraits. Absolutely forbid them to move, including Uncle Falco, understand? Also, de-gnome the garden and lock the conservatory door so Lily doesn't stumble upon the poisonous tantacula. Go."

The house-elf obediently scurried away, squashing a spidery finger to his lips in an inclination to silence the babbling portraits outside. Once the house-elf was out of sight, James entered the bedroom to console the shrieking girl inside.

Spotting a foot protruding from a curled lump in the middle of his bed, James realized Lily was hiding beneath the sheets. Feeling mischievous, he reached out to snatch her ankle: this caused the her to wail and wriggle out of his unyielding grasp.

"Lily!" James soothed, grinning as he pulling the duvet off of her. "It's just me!"

"James!" Lily yelped, reaching for his forearm as she scanned the room in fright. She pulled James onto the bed and covered them both in linens—a swift move that took him by surprise.

Below the tent of textile, James untangled himself from a pillow and looked into her apprehensive eyes. She remained clamped on his muscled arm. Regretfully, his mind momentarily lingered to what other events could be taking place beneath the silk sheets.

"What are we doing?" he asked, barely hiding a beam as he observed Lily's petrified features. "Why were you screaming?"

"Shhhh! You mustn't speak too loudly," Lily hissed, ignoring his look of amusement. "There's some sort of animal in the room—I just saw it!"

"What? You must have been dreaming," James tried to sooth her. "It's early, the light was probably playing tricks on you—"

"Light does not create solid, screeching illusions," Lily retorted, her forehead creasing as she frowned. "I swear there was something. Do you have any pets in the house?"

"No…but I'll poke around a bit to make sure it's gone," James declared, encouraging Lily's tale to prevent her from getting angry at him for patronizing her. "A wild squirrel probably got in through the balcony window or something."

Lily watched as James unlatched himself from her arm and began inspecting the room, thoroughly checking behind curtains, under the bed and even beneath the carpets. He wore a pair of denim jeans and a black T-shirt that clung to his toned chest, giving him the look of a laid-back criminal every girl lusted after. Though his attire was casual, he still had a regal presence about it. Lily looked away as he caught her watching him, blushing.

"I don't see anything, Lily," James declared, grinning as she popped her head out from under the covers again. "Why don't we forget about this and have breakfast? Will you dress and join me?"

Lily relented and got out of James' bed, sheets still coddling her body because of the humidity. She eyed the room nervously, as if the creature would return at any moment, but eventually relaxed and turned her attention toward the British lord.

"Any idea where my school uniform is?" Lily commented, wondering what she had to dress into, "Last time I saw it, my kilt and shirt were rumpled on the ground somewhere…"

"I expect Mrs. O'Leary is having them washed and pressed," James replied. "She'll probably have your garments ready by this evening."

"This evening? What am I to wear, then?"

"Well," James began, his eyes twinkling like diminutive chocolate stars, "If you prefer prancing around in the nude, I won't object."

"No, I don't suppose you would," Lily drawled, eyes narrowing into a teasing glare. "I'll follow your lead."

"If you insist," James replied, digging his fingers under the brim of his shirt and peeling it upward, exposing his toned abdominal muscles.

"I was only joking!" Lily yelped, failing to keep her voice from squeaking as her eyes quickly darted away from his chiseled pecks.

"You aren't blushing, are you?" James said impishly, his gaze unwavering as he speculated what she may be thinking or feeling.

"No," Lily insisted, storming pass James and towards his mahogany wardrobe, trying to shield her face from betraying anymore of her emotions, "Now, do you have any dresses, or must I resort to wearing your clothing?"

James had known Lily for a very short time, yet he was already teasing her and talking to her without formality—something he had never done with any woman so quickly, ever. It was refreshing. Lily made him feel astonishingly normal…a freeing feeling that he craved more of.

"I bought you a dress."

Lily peered over her shoulder at James, bewilderment written boldly across her features. The only presents she had ever received were from Roxanne, but Sister Agatha—who would accuse her of stealing from the other girls—often confiscated the beautiful trinkets.

"You bought a dress for me?" Lily inquired, her face distraught as James' twisted in confusion.

"I didn't take you for the type of woman to lounge in the buff, so...yes, I bought you a dress," James explained uneasily, watching for any hint of emotion on the redhead's face, "Is that...a problem?"

"No...but I'm afraid I haven't the funds to repay you," Lily murmured, worry building. "P-Perhaps if I—?"

"Repay me?" James demanded unbelievingly, folding his arms and staring at the stuttering girl as if she had grown another head. "I would never ask a lady to repay me for a gift."

"But...I—"

"A gentleman would never be so undignified as to present a lady with a gift and ask for something in return."

"Don't be silly, I'll—" Lily stammered, her gaze dropping to the floor in embarrassment.

"Lily, I'm giving you this dress because I want to," James explained, cupping his hand under Lily's chin to direct her gaze from the ground to his encouraging face. "I hope I haven't offended you somehow?"

"No! No…I'm sorry," Lily apologized, her naïveté reflecting her sincerity. "It's just…I'm not accustomed to receiving gifts."

She couldn't help but think how much she liked his smooth hands caressing her face…

"Then I'll have to change that," James proclaimed, snatching the parcel Mrs. O'Leary had brought into the room the previous morning and handing it to Lily. "Once you're dressed, meet me in the front foyer and we'll eat breakfast in the gardens."

James strode out of the expansive room without another word, his conversation with Lily leaving him agitated. He suddenly thought about Lily's appalling treatment at St. Madeline's. Living in what he imagined to be a decrepit attic with every spider imaginable was trying enough, but being regularly lashed and deprived of generosity was another. A deep loathing began formulating in the pit of James' stomach.

In his mind, no one had the right to inflict pain upon Lily.

Lily was left speechless. She idly entwined her fingers with the white strings gripping the package James had given her. With the mention of her rarely receiving gifts, his attitude had changed from teasing to fuming within seconds. Lily felt sick, like she was about to wretch, as a thought sprung up in her mind. Maybe he's finally realizing how pathetically poor I am?

Her wonderings were interrupted as Mrs. O'Leary shuffled into James' room minutes after his departure, her pointed leather shoes scuffing the floor. On one hip she totted a basket full of fresh towels, while in her right hand she clutched a finely carved whalebone comb. Her face was slightly flushed and bits of wispy, untamable hair stuck out of her poorly composed bun.

"There ye' be, dear!" Mrs. O'Leary exclaimed, abandoning her wooden laundry basket and plucking a towel from its bosom. "Bout time ye' woke up! Ye've got ter wash up and get dressed, m' love!"

Before Lily was able to respond, she felt herself blush in disbelief as Mrs. O'Leary pulled her silk slip over her head, leaving her standing naked in the middle of the room. The older woman grasped Lily by the arm and led her toward the bedroom exit, ignoring Lily's outraged protests as she opened the door.

"You don't expect me to go out into the hall like this?" Lily demanded in a high-pitched voice, covering herself up with her hands, "What if James walks by?"

"I wouldn't worry, m' dear," Mrs. O'Leary replied, chuckling at the redhead. "You've very pretty curves! I'm sure Master Potter wouldn't be offended in the slightest if e' ran into you."

Lily, scandalized, broiled over in humiliation as she was lead down the hallway, completely stripped, by Mrs. O'Leary. She fumed as the woman disregarded her discretion and tittered at her distress. As she prayed James wouldn't come walking down the furbished hallway, she recoiled, catching something in her peripherals.

One of the male portraits was eyeing her enthusiastically, chuckling in the back of his elderly throat…

"Jus' in here, m'love!" Mrs. O'Leary shouted, ushering Lily into a room filled with large basins of water and baskets of soap that smelled like cucumber. "I'll get ye' all washed up, perhaps fix yer' hair a bit."

Lily felt helpless as O'Leary herded her into a bathtub in the far corner of the lavishly tiled room. The housekeeper picked up a pail of warm water and dumped it over Lily's head, giving her shudders as the liquid trickled down her neck and pooled in the porcelain drum. She began scrubbing Lily's back with a coarse sponge, making her flinch in pain, and the longer she continued the more Lily began to resent her for so boorishly breaching her privacy.

After the redhead was washed and her damp hair brushed, Mrs. O'Leary began drying Lily's tresses with a towel—despite her protests—and twisted her red locks into curls, bunching some atop her head in a regal up-do.

"S'not often Master Potter has lady friends over at the house," Mrs. O'Leary clucked, talking enough to cramp any potential silence between them. "Been in a strange mood this last month, like e' got a good bout o' dragon pocks!"

Lily had been tuning the old woman out, her ineffectual chatter giving her a headache, but perked up when she heard the term "dragon pocks." It was all she needed to become convinced the woman had an addled brain.

"Master Potter is the most inflexible man I've yet to meet," Mrs. O'Leary continued, pulling hard on Lily's hair. "Jus' like 'is father, he is! Never lettin' anyone get in 'is way."

Once Mrs. O'Leary finished with Lily's hair, she stood back to admire her work. With a sewing needle betwixt her teeth and a load of soiled towels tucked underneath her bosom, the babbling housekeeper disappeared down the mansion hallway in a torrent of whistling and humming, leaving Lily with fresh lace undergarments to change into and not another word.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Lily eyed the parcel James had left her and undid the white strings enclosing the russet wrapping. Clawing apart the parcel, Lily's eyes widened at the sight of an attractive buttercream-coloured dress.

The dress wasn't formal, yet it demanded attention with its pretty, shimmering golden bands and soft, sheer material. Around the waist the dress was very form fitting and made of a yellow silk, while the chest and bottom of the dress was comprised of layers upon layers of gossamer.

When Lily tried the gown on and sought her reflection in the mirror, she gasped. She'd never looked so good and been so clean. Her hair was stylish and appealing, while her dress was simply astonishing.

A grandfather clock in the hallway began to chime, prompting Lily to go and find James. She felt self-conscious as she exited the room and walked toward the patterned staircase, feeling more exposed in her new dress than she had been in her silk slip.

James Potter sat on a crushed velvet chair near the bottom of the staircase, periodically snapping open his pocket watch to examine the time. He had been brewing various plots in his mind, but nothing had yet surfaced that would work effectively to help Lily's situation at school. Just as the grandfather clock at the top of the stairs began to chime, the manor's doorbell tittered.

"That better not be my publicist," James murmured, opening the large mahogany door.

Instead of his portly publicist, James grudgingly found Miss Collins, the buxom bombshell who made it her mission in life to pursue him. She was wearing a very low-cut gown, likely purchased in one of London's most expensive boutiques, and atop her perfectly curled head was a fashionable hat with feathers poking out at the sides. James thought she looked absurd.

"James," Miss Collins purred in a deep, sultry tone usually. "What a surprise. I'm ever so glad to see you."

"Good day, Miss Collins," James said impassively, his face stony. "May I ask what you're doing here?"

"Oh James," Miss Collins cooed like a turtledove, parting her lips in mock outrage. "How many times must I insist you call me Alexis?"

"I suppose one more time cannot hurt," James replied, folding his arms over his chest.

"You're such a tease," Alexis said with a tantalizing smile. "How much longer will you make me stand out here in the cold? I might shiver to death you know."

James suppressed an eye roll. Lily had been sopping wet outside at night and hadn't complained once, while Alexis was complaining about contracting chills in multiple layers of clothing in late April.

"I'm terribly sorry, Miss Collins, but I haven't the time for company. I'm very busy this morning," he emphasized sternly, hoping the blonde would turn around and march her frilly ass back to Manchester.

"But James!" Alexis said in a troubled tone. "Didn't your mother inform you that she'd arranged a private meeting for the two of us? Your mother made sure your calendar was open…"

"No, she did not inform me," James snapped back, aggravation causing his formal, polite manner to slowly seep away. "I do not have the time for you, Miss Collins, and I beg your pardon."

James nodded his head at the society lady and began closing the door, but Alexis wedged her foot between the frame and wood, preventing his dismissal.

"What are you doing—?"

"James," Alexis Collins whispered breathlessly. "I promise you I'm not like many high society women you've met. Let me show you how...unladylike…I can be..."

"James?" Lily called out, perched on the bottom step of the grand staircase. Her concern showed as she noticed his subdued temper. "Is something wrong?"

"Lil,." James whispered, turning his attention toward the redhead and ignoring Miss Collins' sexual advances. His expression ignited as he glimpsed Lily in her new dress, "You look—"

"Who's this?" Alexis demanded in a sickly sweet tone, interrupting James as she eyed Lily with hidden scorn. "I don't believe we've met?"

"No, it's not likely you have," James began, regaining his composure and lordly façade. "Lily, this is my...associate, Miss Collins. Miss Collins, my friend, Miss Evans."

"Nice to meet you," Lily said softly, feeling uncomfortable under the blonde's piercing gaze—like a pebble under the women's shoe.

"Yes...lovely," was Alexis' clipped replied. She silently seethed as James seemed more affectionate introducing Miss Evans. "May I inquire as to how long you have known James?"

Lily wondered why the refined woman was intrigued to know such information. Her nose was upturned in a snobbish gloat, and even her designer perfume seemed to have a competitive edge. Alexis reminded Lily of a fair-haired version of Acantha.

"I've known Lily for over a month now," James interjected, his hand still draped across the door in order to keep Alexis out. "She's done me the honour of joining me for brunch this morning."

"Only a month?" Alexis chuckled, a challenging look in her eye as she turned toward Lily and ignored James' last sentence. "Isn't it funny, James? How a month seems like such a trivial amount of time, compared to how long we've known each other?"

"Quite right, Miss Collins. Thank goodness time is not essential for the formation of a wonderful friendship. Isn't that right, Lily?" James remarked, winking to make her smile.

"Couldn't have said it better myself," Lily replied graciously, feeling a hint of satisfaction as Ms. Collins' face began turning an abnormal purple color.

"Well I think—"

"I apologize for interrupting, but Lily and I really must bid you goodbye, our delightful breakfast awaits and I cannot have it grow cold," James insisted, closing the manor door before Alexis could jab her foot in the door cranny again. "Have a lovely day, Miss Collins."

James pulled back the curtains covering a window near the door and waited until Ms. Collins tramped off the property. He heaved a sigh of relief and turned toward Lily, amused to see the redhead covering her mouth with her hands, trying desperately to muffle her hilarity.

"And what, may I ask, do you find so entertaining?" James asked, a grin twitching on the margin of his lips at the sight of Lily convulsing in giggles.

"It's nothing—I'm fine," she nearly sputtered, tears of mirth threatening to spill.

"Tell me."

"Or you'll what?" Lily countered jokingly, a tenacious look crossing her face.

"I'll insist you give that dress back to me this very minute," James announced proudly, quirking a naughty smile that made Lily instantly blush, further delighting him.

"My Lord!"

"My Lady?"

"You wouldn't dare!"

"I think it's a fair compromise," James began thoughtfully, crossing his arms over his chest and smiling innocuously. "If you won't satisfy my curiosity with an answer, I'll satisfy a different curiosity I boast."

Lily's heart began beating furiously as discomfiture seized her. Damn James Potter for being remarkably charming and appealing; he seemed to have a talent for making her redden.

"I think that hat Ms. Collins was wearing was just bizarre," Lily snorted, willing her blush away. "I didn't want to insult your friend, but—"

"She's not my friend," James insisted, reprimanding himself for getting too flirtatious with Lily. He didn't want to come off as a bad-mannered prat. "And I agree with you. That hat looked like it was purchased from a taxidermist."

Lily quirked a half-moon smile, feeling oddly relieved, yet curious as to why James wasn't fond of Miss Collins.

"Enough about her. Would you like to join me for breakfast in the gardens?" James offered once an odd silence surfaced between them. "I'm interested to learn more about you—I mean—your schooling," James corrected himself.

"I'm famished," Lily agreed, screwing up her pretty face into a perplexed, hungry expression. "I haven't eaten since yesterday morning."

"Then I'll have to stuff you with food," James remarked proudly, extending his right elbow toward Lily in an inclination to lead her. "Shall we?"

"Yes, we shall," Lily repeated, taking James' arm. "But I fear I might pop a button off my new dress if you stuff me too much."

"One can only hope," James whispered impishly, chuckling as Lily swatted his arm.

Crossing the magnificent manor had taken longer than Lily had expected. Each furbished hallway seemed to lead to another, creating a twisted maze of hardwood and tile. Lily felt as if she was in a museum, for she was surrounded by paintings, suits of armor and serpentine sculpture.

A glass door with tiny butterflies and tropical birds etched on the surface at the back of the house lead out to the manicured gardens Lily had visited once before. Outside, marble fountains trickled water and wild rose bushes flowered, creating the perfect atmosphere. Taking in all the sights, Lily noticed two patio chairs and a table were strategically placed under an aching old willow tree…

"Madam," James bellowed in a deep, sultry voice, pulling a chair out from beneath the table and tucking Lily in. "What can I fetch you this morning?"

"Well," Lily played along, pretending to flip through a menu. "I believe I'll try one of everything."

James quirked a smile and pulled the lid off a silver tray situated on a tea trolley with wheels. "As you wish."

Lily swore she hadn't seen the trolley there before, but pushed the thought from her mind as she glimpsed sizzling bacon, bangers, smoked ham, scrambled eggs, beans and every croissant and baguette known to England on the tray James set upon the table.

"Good Lord," Lily murmured as James poured her a glass of freshly squeezed grapefruit juice. "Is this how the other half live?"

James took a seat and folded a napkin over his lap, pleased with Lily's enthusiasm. It was turning out to be a perfect morning, the sun was gently shining, the wind barely grazing exposed skin, and the most beautiful redhead James had ever seen in his presence.

"Yes, I suppose being a lord does have its perks," James commented, smirking behind the rim of his coffee cup as Lily rolled her eyes.

"That's a bit of an understatement," Lily pursued.

"Not really," James replied, his face taking on a more serious appearance. "It isn't all fun and games. One would imagine this great freedom, but being of noble birth comes with its shackles."

"You must be joking!" Lily retorted, dropping her fork and becoming more determined. "Compared to me, you've all the freedom in the world! I have to go to a bloody snob school until I'm eighteen, and you're free to picnic on your estate or go and do whatever you want!"

"Don't presume to know what I can and cannot do," James snapped back, narrowing his eyes. "You may be stuck in some hell hole now, but once you're eighteen you will have freedom and make your own decisions. This I will never have."

"What are you talking about?" Lily replied hotly, glaring back at James with the same fierceness. "You have the freedom to travel wherever you want, buy whatever you want, and you will never feel burdened due to lack of wealth."

"If there is one thing I have learned in my life thus far, it's that money doesn't bring happiness," James said firmly, his gaze locked with Lily. "I'll never be able to make any decisions until I've inherited the entire Potter fortune. The little things you take for granted, like running out into the streets and doing something completely crazy and exciting, I could never do. My actions would be published on the front of some tabloid, and to besmirch the Potter name would be to condemn myself to a lifetime of my mother's wrath."

Lily fell silent, watching as James crumbled his hands into fists and stared down at the table with a cold glower. She regretted bringing up the topic immediately.

"I'm...sorry," Lily offered softly, feeling ashamed. "I didn't mean—"

"You don't need to apologize, Lily," James looked up at her with a calculating stare. "I don't usually launch into fiery tirades...it's uncharacteristic, how I seem to blurt out my emotions around you."

"I've been told I can be quite infuriating," Lily quirked a smile at James, who returned it with his own smirk. She was glad their argument had dissipated so quickly.

"A toast," James announced, raising his crystal goblet of juice. "To Lily, the biggest pain in my arse."

"I resent that!" Lily insisted, raising her glass. "Shall we rephrase? To me, the smallest pain in Lord Potter's massive arse."

"Been looking at my backside?" James looked pleased.

"Clink my glass, Potter!"

The pair downed their juice and began buttering their bread, both fairly pleased about their verbal sparring. James had never known a woman so headstrong and willing to oppose him.

With an pop, Sirius Black appeared in a dark, mucky alley three blocks away from Potter Manor. Dressed casually in mahogany-coloured fleece and a pair of black trousers, Sirius exited the dodgy passage and set out down the street.

Yesterday's events had boggled him. Sirius had followed James—who had been carrying a pretty girl—back to his mansion to get some answers. It was highly unlike James to risk his own life for a woman and Sirius could not rationalize such actions. But, Sirius had gotten no answers; just a request to leave.

He turned a corner and headed straight for the wrought iron gates embellished with the Potter coat of arms. He whipped out his yew, fairly pliable wand and muttered Alohomora. The gate swung open, a slight wheeze in the hinges, and Sirius headed toward the gardens; however, before he stepped out from behind a crab apple tree he halted, glimpsing James and the mysterious woman he'd saved eating breakfast and laughing.

James Potter laughing?

"Well, well, well." Sirius murmured, a coy grin spreading over his face as he slinked back into the shadows. "You haven't been telling me everything, have you, Prongs?"

"What subjects are you taking in school, Lily?" James inquired, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table, something he would never dare do around his mother.

"Religion, Math, Geography, History...fairly boring things like that," Lily replied. "What about you? What school did you go to?"

"I went to Hogwarts School of Witch—er...I mean, Hogwarts School in Winchester," James stumbled, clearing his throat awkwardly. "I took similar subjects, as well as Piano, French, Latin... also very boring."

"Hogwarts? I've never heard of it," Lily stated, looking mildly curious. "Then again, I suppose it's some secret posh school for the lordly type."

"Yes...I suppose the students admitted are somewhat… different," James replied, quirking a smile.

"Yes, different is an appropriate word," Lily teased, grinning at him.

"Are you taunting me, Miss Evans?" James asked. "Because if you are, there will be consequences."

"Really? Well, despite your warning, I must inform you that I am taunting you, Lord Potter," Lily politely informed him, dabbing the corner of her mouth with a cloth napkin as he grinned playfully.

"Mmm, I presumed you were," he said calmly, ascending from his chair and depositing his cutlery atop his china plate. "Would you like to take a walk with me to the pond?"

"Pond?" Lily allowed James to help her out of her chair. "The one at the park down the street?"

"No, we shall save that walk for another time," James answered, watching Lily's eyes alight with intrigue. "There's a little pond on the western side of the property I'd like to show you."

"Oh? I'd very much like to see it," Lily replied, smiling. "But don't walk too closely beside me."

"Why? Afraid I might misbehave?" James' face held wicked thoughts.

Still crouching beneath the flowering crab-apple tree, Sirius Black watched the sparing pair get up from the patio table and head toward the duck pond, located on the opposite side of the Potter Estate. Clearing his mind of all thoughts, save one, Sirius hunched over, tiny hairs formulating on his arms and back, while a long snout and claws sprouted from his appendages...

Padfoot followed the duo to the serene pond where they stopped to admire the water lilies and tadpoles. Padfoot lifted his nostrils upward and sniffed, among other things, the scent of cucumber soap and crushed pine. Squatting behind an oleander bush, Padfoot continued to watch Lily and James, acutely interested in the events that began to unfold.

"My father usually keeps the pond stocked with trout," James said, kneeling on the water's bank and fishing out a smooth rock to chuck. "I used to enjoy coming out here with him."

"I've never fished before," Lily watched as James skipped rocks along the pond's surface.

"No, it's not likely you have," James affirmed, getting up and brushing his wet hands on his pants. "It's a male sport."

"Says who?" Lily interjected.

"I've never heard of or seen a woman fish before," James turned to Lily, flashing her a stubborn look. "It's not a sport women take interest in."

"Have you questioned every woman to ever live?" Lily persisted, crossing her arms. "Perhaps women would fish if doing so wasn't considered socially inappropriate."

"Name me one woman that would want to fish."

"Me."

"You can't be serious," James scoffed, looking obstinate. "Women play croquet, or perhaps they horseback ride, but they do not fish."

"Perhaps aristocratic women don't, but in this age a woman can do anything a man can," Lily stated, glaring at James. "And don't you dare argue."

"Woman can't fish. It's a bloody fact," James retorted, returned her glower and pigheadedly refusing to listen. "And, now that we're on the topic, it's scientifically proven that woman don't have the muscle mass a man—"

"I'll show you how strong a woman can be," Lily threatened, poking James' chest repeatedly. "Don't push me!"

"Oh? What are you going to do? Impale me with your knitting hooks?"

Lily cried in indignation and pushed James hard, causing him to lose his balance and splash into the cold pond behind him.

Padfoot wagged his tail fiercely a few yards away. If he had been in a human state, he surely would've had to choke back laughter. The mere thought of James Potter, most popular and sought after lord in London—maybe even England—being thwarted by a woman was astounding. However, what most astounded Sirius was the way James handled the situation…

"Miss Evans," James hissed, his head popping out from beneath the water as sopping wet hair impaired his vision.

"What?" Lily demanded indignantly.

"You're going to pay for that."

Lily was shocked to see James' expression turn from annoyed to amused as he wadded toward the shore. He mischievously eyed Lily, ready to pounce on her.

"Wait...what are you doing?" Lily squealed girlishly as she backed up into a tree.

"I have this overpowering urge to hug you," James said, grinning as water dripped from his outstretched arms.

"Don't you come near me! You'll get my dress wet!" Lily insisted, trying to pull away from James' grasp.

"Don't forget, I bought you that dress. I am entitled to do whatever I please with it," James replied, scooping Lily up in his arms as she writhed in protest.

"Let me down!"

"No."

"Lord Potter, let me down, now!"

"As you wish."

James dropped Lily into the lake, her yellow dress and manicured hair submerging in the water. When Lily surfaced, gasping for air, James couldn't help but think she looked just as beautiful when saturated with water.

"James!" Lily yelped, panting as she kicked toward the surface, her dress weighing her down substantially.

"Can I help you?" James inquired comically, kneeling near the shore and watching Lily swim toward him.

"Some gentleman you turned out to be!" Lily retorted, failing to keep an outraged smile from crossing her red lips.

"Miss Evans, I am as much a gentleman as you are a lady," James announced proudly, smiling with bits of black hair awkwardly sticking out atop his head.

"I suppose you're right...but I have a surprise for you," Lily cooed, slithering closer to James.

James almost fell over, for Lily's face was very close to his. He felt his heart palpitating as Lily's lips neared his...

"I love surprises," James responded in a deep, guttural voice.

"Close your eyes," Lily whispered, her hand wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer as she sat in the water.

James obliged, closing his eyes and sensing Lily's face very close to his...but instead of tasting her lips, James tasted lake water as he was promptly pulled back into the pond.

"Surprise!" Lily hollered as James resurfaced.

"Merlin, you'll be the death of me," James exclaimed, shaking his head and sending droplets of water everywhere. "That's the thanks I get for saving you from getting run over? Drowning me? Sorry, but I had something else in mind."

What does Merlin mean anyway?

"Let's just say I'm not the appreciative type," Lily chided, winking.

"Yes, I can tell! As repayment, I'm forcing you to help me locate my lost glasses…"

"Oh, no, you lost them? This pond isn't very deep…it must be along the bottom somewhere…" Lily said, brushing wet hair out of her face. "We'll just have to dive down and find them."

"Ladies first." James insisted, smirking.

"I thought you said I wasn't a lady?"

"Changed my mind."

"Fine."

Lily dove beneath the surface, taking a deep breath and running her hands along the sandy bottom of the pond. She felt James beside her scavenging the bottom, and ever so often their legs would entangle. Squinting, Lily saw James find his spectacles and resurface.

"Much better," James said, fixing his glasses on his nose and smiling triumphantly at Lily.

"I told you it wouldn't be so difficult, I—" Lily broke off, feeling something beneath her dress struggling between her breasts. Lily looked down and saw a scaled tail flapping wildly in her cleavage.

For the second time that day she let out an ear-splitting scream, beginning to unbutton the front of her dress in a panic.

"GET IT OUT! GET IT OUT!" Lily wailed, flailing her arms and wriggling out of her dress. James' eyes grew wide at the sight of her undressing, but he soon understood the situation.

"I…I…hold still!" James ordered, his pants tightening as he plunged a steady hand into her dress and pulled the fish out by its flapping tail.

Lily stopped screaming and slinked back into the water, vigorously trying to compose herself and button her dress back up. She was sufficiently embarrassed, what with James fondling a fish down her dress.

"I'm sorry about that…" James said, dropping the fish back into the water and turning toward her flushed face, "I hope you don't think—"

"No, no! I...er...suppose I'm grateful?" Lily said meekly.

"And here I thought you weren't the appreciative type."

As she rolled her eyes, an interesting thought occurred to James. He suddenly began, against his better judgment, to laugh.

"What's so funny?" Lily demanded cuttingly, her face flushing again.

"You've proved me wrong, that's all."

"What are you talking about?"

"I suppose women can fish…"

Sirius Black transformed back into his human form, his mouth wide open. Lord James Potter was in a pond, with a beautiful woman, who had coincidentally pushed him in.

"Lucky bugger," Sirius smiled, standing up from behind his bush and exiting the Potter property.

He'd seen enough, and soon would confront James with his findings.

Lily and James swam circles around one another, occasionally dunking each other's heads under the cool water. Lily's golden dress trailed behind her, like streaks of sun, and her red hair clung to her rosy cheeks. James had peeled off his black T-shirt, deciding to traverse the water without it, and seemed content to reside in the lake for hours.

"I used to wake up early in the summer, even in early autumn, and swim in the middle of the lake at my boarding school," James said, breaking the silence. "It's one of my fondest memories."

Lily swam closer to James, treading water. She paused for a moment, wondering if she had any good memories to share. She supposed whenever she and Roxanne were together happy memories were created, and wondered whether her time with James would be a happy memory, too.

"If my school had a pond, I'm sure I'd do the same," Lily supposed, feeling James' hand close over her own. "I don't think I've swam since I was little…"

"Then you'll have to come visit again," James said, almost hesitant to say what he was thinking aloud. "I...don't want this to be the last time I see you."

Lily felt a strange sensation in her chest, like the tinkling of music—piano keys softly playing and making her warm, yet cold. She fell silent, the thought of returning to school suddenly making her feel sick.

"Are you cold?" James asked gently, his eyes searching Lily's as he wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her close, "You're shivering."

"Maybe a little," Lily whispered, water rippling above her shoulders as she held onto James instead of treading.

The pond was still, only a slight wind touching upon its surface. James and Lily silently stared into one another's eyes, seeing something in the other's...an emotion they did not recognize. It looked almost like innocence…something raw and untouched that lurked beneath emerald green and chocolate brown.

"Let me take you back to the house. You'll be warm there," James offered, helping Lily out of the pond and walking with her toward the mansion.

He didn't know what to think. She didn't know what to think.

He didn't want to grow attached to her. She didn't want to grow attached to him.

It would only lead to pain. It would only lead to pain.

And was she worth it? And was he worth it?

The sky had begun to darken, leaving James's room dancing in fiery shadows. Lily was curled up near his fireplace, her head propped up on her knees, which she was hugging. She thought the room smelled like a mixture of burning wood and musk, perhaps mingled with crushed pine—like him. She sighed, playing with the hem of her freshly pressed school uniform, and waited.

During this lonely hour, Lily had thought about what had occurred down at the pond. Despite her greatest effort, she had finally admitted to herself what she had fiercely been denying, and it scared her.

She liked James…she liked him a lot, and she realized she couldn't let it progress any further. James was a lord, handsome, strong, charming...and she was a poor street girl without a family, a good name, or any money. They could never become more than friends, for they were a prince and a pauper, of sorts. How such a man could ever feel for her, Lily could not fathom. The situation was hopeless, and she would be the one left broken-hearted.

She wanted to leave as quickly as she could.

There was a small knock on the door. Lily looked up to see James, standing in the darkest corner, his eyes illuminated by the fire.

"She's here?"

"No, not yet."

James took a seat beside Lily, turning his gaze towards the fire. Once they had gotten to the house, Lily and James had gone their separate ways, drying off and preparing for supper. However, Mrs. O'Leary had reminded them that Sister Agatha would be stopping by the house before dinner to pick Lily up and bring her back to school, leaving James and Lily downtrodden.

"You know, I could convince her that you're still sick," James said softly, staring hard into the burning embers. "You could stay longer…"

"I can't impose on your hospitality anymore," Lily replied, her hard gaze unfaltering.

"Don't be absurd, you're not—"

"James, I need to go home," Lily said curtly, blinking back tears. She could not let him see that she cared…see how she really felt about leaving.

"That place isn't your home," James whispered, turning his gaze toward Lily and flinching. She looked hard and cold…not at all the woman she was before, the woman he knew.

"It's where I belong, and I must return."

"Lily, please—"

"James," Lily began, turning to look at him with a passive expression. "I'm sorry, but I don't want to stay here with you. I had a good time, but I want to leave, and…" Lily heard her voice grow coarse. "I must go."

James was taken aback, for in her eyes he saw emerald ice, callous and cruel. He felt so foolish for letting her in, letting himself care for a woman of inferior birth...a women he had only just met. His chest began to throb, as if he had just been stabbed.

"I understand, I—" James breathed, his hands becoming fists and his teeth clenching. He was suddenly furious, for she had made a fool of him…yet he didn't want her to go. "Just get out."

Lily got up from the carpet she sat on, backing away from James. His voice sounded emotionless, harsh, as if he were on the brink of lashing out. His eyes never seemed to leave the fire, but they burned with the same intensity.

Lily walked toward the door, broken, about to turn the handle…

"And Miss Evans?"

The way he said her name was formal, cutting.

"Yes?" Lily asked, her voice cracking but her facade remaining.

"Don't ever step foot in this house again."

Lily exited the room and ran down the hallway, tears beginning to pour down her face. She wasn't going to wait for Sister Agatha to fetch her; she was going back to school on her own.

Prying open the front door, Lily escaped onto the streets, darting past the same lampposts she had passed on the night of her escape from St. Madeline's.

James watched her from his bedroom window. Though it was dark, he could see her wounded expression. He wanted to run after her, console her, protect her…

He realized she had lied to him.

Author's Notes

Please continue to read & review! :)

-pratty prongs princess