Petal in the Rain
Chapter 31 – Blame it on the Booze
I don't like the way he's looking at you, I'm starting to think you want him too.
Am I crazy, have I lost you?
Even though I know you love me, can't help it.
-Nick Jonas
Sirius leaned his back against the bar—now strewn with half-emptied glasses that were either broken or turned over—one of his hands grasped on a firewhiskey on the rocks, the other curled around the waist of a lissome burlesque dancer whispering in his ear. He grinned as hushed, suggestive poetry poured from her lips, trying to lull him out of the makeshift speakeasy and into a bed in what he imagined was a beaten-down flat. There was no point pretending the proposition didn't pique his interest.
Nearing dawn, there were only a few couples left at the once-roaring party, all swaying to dulled music from a magical gramophone on a dance floor sticky with spilled alcohol and glitter. The band had packed up their instruments and left, and most students had stumbled up the cellar stairs into awaiting coaches on wobbly, stilettoed feet. Only the bartender remained, washing glasses behind the bar and occasionally turning around to fill up his last client's tumbler.
Sirius' pretty dancer dropped into his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her seductive perfume filled his nostrils. "The zipper on this dress is cutting into my back—won't you help me get out of it?"
Even in the deep throws of intoxication, Sirius' clouded eyes sparkled with mischief. "As further harm to your person is at stake, I think it only right that I lend a—" he hiccupped. "—helping hand."
A shriek suddenly resounded from the remaining dancers as a door to one of the basement's storerooms flew off its hinges, two wizards in a tangle of violent limbs landing atop it. Sirius looked up: a female figure appeared in the open doorway, her face crumpled with distress as she watched the dueling gents.
It took a moment for the unfolding scene to catch up to Sirius' brain, where the cogs were turning at a much slower pace, but when it did, he bolted upright, thoughtlessly knocking the girl in his lap onto the ground.
"Shite, sorry love," Sirius slurred, distracted as he helped her to her feet. "Rain check, must be off—ta-ta."
Leaving the dancer's injured ego behind, Sirius quickened to the commotion, where he found his best friend pummeling Frank Longbottom in the face with his fists. Frank seemed to be giving it as hard as he was getting it, however, as he landed a hard blow in James' gut that made him reel, the wind knocked out of him. He wasn't down for long, throwing himself at Frank again, the two trading barbed remarks that—blessedly—couldn't be deciphered by onlookers due to their recurrent heaves of pain.
At a loss for what'd transpired to ignite such a public display of friendliness, a switch flipped in Sirius' head, sending him into damage control. "Oiy, you lot get home, there's nothing to see here," he shouted at the spectating crowd ravenous with the scent of scandal. "Let them work out their differences in peace—nothing like a good pub brawl to straighten out an old Quidditch rivalry."
The remaining students protested as Sirius bade the bartender to shoo them out. As James and Frank continued to row, neither appearing to lose steam, Sirius toyed with the idea of immobilizing them, but thought better of it, instead grabbing a sobbing Lily's hand and pulling her away from the exhibition.
"Aren't you going to do something?" Lily demanded through her tears.
"I am: getting you home and letting those two wankers work out their differences the only way they know how," Sirius replied, looping an arm around Lily's waist to help her navigate the stairs in her heels. She was too drunk to resist.
They got as far as the top of the landing before Sirius stopped and turned on her, using his thumbs to wipe away streaks of mascara blotting her cheeks. Lily struggled for air between sobs.
"Alright, look at me," Sirius said, lifting her chin so her red-rimmed eyes met his. Some of her characteristic defiance returned. "You're going to stop blubbing now, hear me? Pull yourself together and put on my jacket."
Lily looked ready to protest but did as she was told, swallowing back sniffles. As she pulled on his jacket, Sirius began plucking pins from her up-do so hair fell in ringlets down her neck and face. She tried to tuck the strands behind her ears, but Sirius stopped her. "Now, I'm going to hold you around the waist to get you to the carriage; keep your head down and a firm grip on me. Ready?"
"R-Ready for what?"
When Sirius opened the door, the dark alley outside lit up like a Christmas tree, flash bulbs crackling and puffs of smoke ebbing from cameras furiously trying to capture an image that would make skulking outside of the Three Broomsticks until the wee hours of the morning all worth it.
I expected this lewd and reckless behaviour from him, Lily, but certainly not from you. What are you thinking?
Lily moaned; she felt like she'd swallowed a blow dryer. She traced her tongue along her lips, attempting to moisten them, and cracked open eyes crusted over with old mascara.
How stupid and wild you two are together…
Closing them again, glaring morning light—or was it an afternoon glow?—spilled into the room, cruelly alerting her to the headache of the century. It seemed impossible to face, but was it any worse that the images roiling around in her head, vicious and shaming?
When Lily is in Voldemort's clutches, at least you may rest easy that you had your way with her…
She groaned again, desperate for water. Eyelashes fluttering, it took her a moment to interpret that a pair of feet rested a few inches from her face. She flinched, pulling the sheets up to her nose.
"Go back the sleep…" the irritable figure in her bed mumbled, lying face-down, his tousled head lolling over the edge.
Lily's concern withered when she realized it was Sirius, still wearing a rumpled tuxedo stained with drink. Alcohol secreted from his very pores.
I'm not even going to ask.
She hopped out of bed—perhaps at an unwise speed—and stumbled into the lavatory, where she turned on the tap and splashed water into her face and mouth like a desiccated dog lapping out of a bowl. When she eventually looked up into the mirror above the sink, she startled: a brunette with a rat's-nest of a hairdo, last night's caked-on make-up and a silver dress stared back at her like a side-show clown. Laughter bubbled up but was quickly replaced with overwhelming nausea.
"Oh god," she croaked, dropping onto the cool marble floor in front of the toilet.
As she began emptying the contents of her stomach, Sirius staggered in, squinting down at her without a hint of sympathy. "You're a bloody mess."
"Haven't you heard of privacy?" Lily snapped, her voice sounding tinny as is echoed in the toilet bowl. She continued to heave.
Sirius collapsed onto his knees beside her, gathering up her tangled hair and giving her back a rub. He seemed unperturbed by the image of her wrapped around the porcelain pot. "I'll give it to Emmeline, she throws a smashing party."
"It wouldn't have been half as wild if you weren't there."
"Now now, don't blame your inability to hold a drink on me."
"You were the one feeding me shots. I've got alcohol poisoning probably. I think I'm dying."
"So dramatic."
"Says the knob who spent the majority of the night dancing on a bar like the attention-seeker he is!"
"Says the girl who's wearing the floozy dress."
Lily grimaced—that one stung more than it should have. "At least I'm not an actual floozy. I saw you with that dancer."
"Do you always berate people when you're upchucking?" Sirius raised a brow.
"It's making me feel a bit better, actually."
"What would really make you feel better is getting that dress off."
"Shut up."
"It was worth a try."
"James would murder you."
"He won't have the energy to murder me after last night. Too busy thrashing Longbottom's bottom," Sirius snickered to himself, amused by his own joke. "Now's my best chance."
"Har-har. What a comedian."
"You know I'm only joking. In truth, you're wholly unattractive at the moment. You finished yet?"
"I'm not moving from this spot—ever."
"But I need the loo."
"I don't particularly care."
Sirius frowned, his brow damp with perspiration and his caramel skin waxen. Lily had no idea how the man could be a shadow of his former beauty and still likely command the arm of any lady in the school. "Alas, no time for that."
When Lily finally sat up, temporary relief washing over her, it was only to find Sirius bent over the side of her claw-foot bathtub, dumping the contents of his own night of excessive fun.
Ten pieces of toast, a pot of coffee and two Pepper-Up potions later, Lily and Sirius had governed their hangovers to the point of holding down food. The unfortunate task of cleaning out the tub had fallen to Mimi, who had then helped Lily into it and hosed her down with cool water tempered with lavender oil. While the house-elf brushed out the lady's hair, freshened up her make-up and helped her into a smart Sunday dress, Sirius slumped in a wing-backed chair near the dormitory's packed bookcase, donning a freshly-laundered shirt.
"You're a doll, Mimi, you really are," Lily sighed when the house-elf completed her clean-up. "I couldn't ask for a better attendant."
Mimi blushed, pleased by the compliment. "Thank you, Mistress Rockford; Mimi is delighted to serve."
"Well you've done a bang-up job," Lily praised, exiting the lavatory. She stopped in her tracks. "Sirius, what are you still doing here?"
"What does it look like? Convalescing," he returned. "Not only am I in no shape to apparate, which I can't do within Hogwarts anyway, but I'm not about to be seen sneaking out of your room."
"So you're going to live out the rest of your days here?"
"I'll summon a broom and fly out—" Sirius massaged his temples. "—while you and your schoolmates are at lunch. I considered writing to James for his cloak, but who knows what state he's in this morning."
Lily felt a pang in her gut, unrelated to her sickness. "Do you think he and…do you think he's alright? Physically, I mean?"
"He and Longbottom will be sporting busted lips and bruised knuckles, but they aren't stupid enough to do any lasting damage to one another—and that's saying something considering they've both been particularly thick where you're concerned," Sirius shook his head. "Sounds like you'll have some explaining to do about this kiss with Longbottom you were ranting on about in the coach last night."
Lily's face enflamed to a rubicund red. "I…told you about that?"
"Don't remember much, do you?" Sirius smirked.
"I…I don't know why I didn't tell James about it. It was meaningless, and Frank said it was all for show at the gala—to solidify the disguise," Lily defended, becoming more unsettled. "James and Frank are ridiculous where I'm concerned, you've seen it yourself. Why would I tell James something that was nothing? Light a match in a room full of gun powder?"
"Because he may hear it from someone else and explode in the middle of a society party?"
Lily waved him off. "I never imagined Frank would be so spiteful as to parade something like that in front of James. It makes no sense at all, him acting that way."
"Doesn't it? Longbottom carries a torch for you in the worst way, and he sees you in the arms of an old school rival—not too hard to put that one together yourself, Lils," Sirius mocked.
"He does not!" she insisted, blue eyes shining with indignation. "I have it on good authority that he and Alice are quite attracted to one another."
"Longbottom is a man, Lily; do you not think him capable of fancying more than one woman?"
"Not everyone is a Casanova like you, Sirius," Lily shot back, a confusion of emotions tearing her in a million different directions. "I've been locked up in this asylum with you long enough—I'm going to get lunch."
"Suit yourself," Sirius stretched out in her chair. "Avoid reality with me or escape into your disguise, where you'll only be peppered with a deluge of questions, gossip and fake friends scraping to get a piece of you."
Cross, yet unable to bite back with something wittier, Lily snatched up her wand and tucked it into a hidden compartment of her dress before exiting the room and escaping down the empty corridor. She didn't bother offering her farewell.
She ignored the inquisitive portraits in her peripheral, too preoccupied with thoughts of James—if he was alright, if he was furious with her, how he'd gotten home last night, if he'd murdered Frank—yet her mind was sluggish whenever she tried to zero in on the events of last night. The memories were fragmented, coming back randomly and in bits and pieces, bursts of colour or chords of conversation, and made her feel anxious—an especially uncomfortable feeling when paired with waves of queasiness.
For a Sunday, the Dining Hall was abuzz with activity: students shoveling food into their mouths; friends leaning in close to trade snippets of gossip; eyes darting about the hall to spy on a crush or a foe; and peals of laughter sounding over games of Exploding Snap. Lily spotted her cluster of friends at the Gryffindor table and headed their way, uncaring of the pairs of eyes following her in a mixture of awe, curiosity, and even jealousy. Sadly, she was becoming immune to the stares already.
"There you are! We began to worry you didn't make it back last night," Rudolf exclaimed when Lily plunked down next to Alice on the bench.
"Please Rue, keep your voice down," Alice requested warily, stirring a teaspoon in a saucer filled with a minty-smelling liquid. Across from them, Emmeline was sporting a pair of large sunglasses that Lily suspected hid the saggy skin beneath her eyes. She wasn't the only one feeling the effects of the previous night
"Excuse me for expressing my gladness that Aurora isn't passed out in a back alley somewhere," Rudolf returned, offering Lily a wink. "How did you get on? We looked for you when we were leaving and couldn't find you anywhere."
Lily had to think fast on her feet, which was near-impossible in her foggy condition. "A few of us decided to hang back for another drink. Frank wanted to stay a bit longer, as he'd missed the first half of the night, so Sirius escorted me back to the castle."
"Was James with you? I couldn't find him anywhere and I wanted him to take me home," Emmeline pouted, though it morphed into a delighted grin not long after. "Can you believe he danced with me the entire night, Aurora? Barely gave another girl a glance! I had no idea the power of our chemistry."
Lily bit her tongue and focused on the trays of food arranged before them. Chips, pork pies, sausage rolls, Cornish pasties, Yorkshire pudding, pork with apples, roast lamb—the fixings of a tradition English lunch, which answered her question about what time it was.
"I thought it was Sirius who you always had your eye on?" Alice contradicted.
Emmeline continued waffling on as Lily picked at her plate of cured ham and salad. She second-guessed whether her now half-drained glass of pumpkin juice would agree with her stomach. "I see now that James has far superior qualities than Sirius. He strikes me as much more serious and committed in his role as the sole heir of the Potter line. And he's obviously clever enough to be a teacher and strong enough to be an athlete. His family may not be as deep-rooted as the Blacks, but they're certainly just as rich."
"And you plan on hooking him, do you?" Rudolf teased, shoveling some chips into his mouth.
"Consider him already hooked," Emmeline crowed, sweeping hair from her shoulder. Rudolf and Alice both snorted. If Lily hadn't felt like puking before, she certainly did now.
"Ah, mail's arrived," Alice commented, dabbing a linen napkin at the edge of her mouth as a flock of owls swooped into the hall, carrying with them an assortment of letters, packages and parcels.
Neither Alice, Emmeline nor Rudolf seemed surprised when a flurry of items dropped in front of them—letters from home, a box of truffles, golden galleons as spending money for weekend shopping trips at Hogsmeade—and though Lily typically expected to receive nothing, she had hoped for a note from James, requesting to meet in secret to discuss the night's activities.
Lily turned, hazarding a look at the professor's table, but found James' place empty. Deflated, she turned back and lifted her pumpkin juice to her lips.
"FINALLY!"
She recoiled, the orange liquid dribbling onto her lap, Emmeline grabbing for something in the middle of the table. She fanned it open in desperation.
"Was that necessary?" Lily grumbled, extracting her wand to scour the stain from her dress as Alice and Rudolf craned to get a glimpse of the front page of her edition of Witch Weekly.
"Merlin—Aurora, you've made the front page," Alice started, though the lovely smile on her face gradually transitioned to visible puzzlement. "Oh, and so has…"
When Alice didn't finish and both she and Rudolf began to scan the cover lines, Lily's poise evaporated and she snatched it out of Emmeline's hands, causing the silly girl to yelp in outrage.
London's lords vie for the attention of Lady Aurora Rockford
By Jacqui Jezebel
Lily swallowed, willing her hands to stop trembling, the front of the magazine comprised of a collage of moving photos—her dancing wildly with Sirius, slow dancing with James, whispering something in Frank's ear, and a larger photo of she and Sirius emerging from the bar, his jacket slung around her shoulders and wavy hair obscuring her face. She realized now why Sirius had unpinned her locks; he didn't want anyone to snap a photo of her with red-rimmed eyes and blotchy skin.
She flipped open the magazine, ignoring Emmeline's protests.
Hogsmeade – It's no understatement that Lady Aurora Rockford—niece of arguably the most powerful wizard in Europe, Lord Albus Dumbledore—became an instant darling of high society when she debuted at the Hogwart's Gala this summer. Rumour has it she's not only made a splash on the social scene ever since, with her designer gowns and entourage of loyal upper-class companions, but has also caught the eye of more than one of England's most eligible wizards, though she's already secured one in Lord Frank Longbottom.
Showing up in a lustrous Gladrags frock dripping with beads for a 1920s-inspired party in the heart of Hogsmeade's entertainment district, it's reported that Lady Rockford drank and danced the night away with other high-profile members of society, chief among them Lord Sirius Black and Lord James Potter. Multiple sources report that it was Lord Black who coveted the attentions of Lady Rockford from the get-go, the first to whisk her onto the dance floor, and wasn't seen dancing with any other guests, even once Lord Longbottom showed up to claim his prize.
"I've been to many parties with Lord Black. Our families run in the same circle," a source who wished to remain anonymous told me. "Everyone who knows him knows he has a reputation as a playboy and that no one has been successful in tying him down. It was astonishing to see him pursue Lady Rockford so passionately, despite knowing she's in a relationship. He looked in love."
Lily nearly spewed out her mouthful of pumpkin juice.
But is it only Lord Black who desires to coax Lady Rockford from the arm of Lord Longbottom? Lord Rudolf Brand, a recent addition to the social circuit, was also spotted taking Lady Rockford for a turn, but of more interest, it was Lord Potter—a mysterious bachelor often absent from society's glittering galas and fabulous fetes–who had the last dance.
"They looked very comfortable together, he and Lady Rockford," the same source revealed. "Like old confidents. He didn't seem quite as enamored as Lord Black, though. Lord Potter actually spent the majority of the evening dancing with another witch."
So though it may appear that Lady Rockford and Lord Potter share more of a friendly rapport, what then was the reasoning behind Lord Potter and Lord Longbottom getting into a rowdy scuffle near the end of the evening? Yes, dear readers: we've received reports that the two lords got into a heated fist fight—perhaps competing for the affection of society's newest "It" Girl? We all know Lord Potter and Lord Black are the best of mates; was Lord Potter defending his friend's love of Lady Rockford to her current suitor? Or has Lord Longbottom done something to rile the anger of a man who feels protective of someone he considers like a sister?
We can't tell you which version of the story is the truthful one, but we can reveal that it was Lord Black who escorted Lady Rockford home, not Lord Longbottom. Of course, this begs the question: where do Lady Rockford's true desires lie? We have a feeling we'll be finding out soon, and when we do, there'll be fireworks.
When Emmeline eventually seized the paper back, Lily hardly noticed, staring blankly at her empty hands.
"I think she's gone into shock," Rudolf whispered to Alice, the duo sandwiching themselves beside her, fretting.
"Oh Aurora, don't pay that stupid magazine any mind," Alice insisted, putting a comforting arm around her waist. "Jacqui Jezebel is awful. She comes up with the most outrageous gossip, nobody ever thinks what she writes is true."
"I can't believe someone said Sirius looked in love with me," Lily replied, her face rumpled in annoyance. "What a load of—"
"Well I can't believe they didn't mention it was my party—or that I was the girl James was with most of the night!" Emmeline fumed, tossing the magazine onto the table, her sunglasses sliding down her nose. "Absolute rubbish! Not even one photo of me!"
The trio ignored her tantrum. "Did Frank and James really get into a row?" Rudolf asked, taking another look at the front cover of the publication; Lily was glad no one had captured a photo of that.
"I…can't really recall. I think they were arguing about Quidditch or something and then they started wrestling, but in a friendly sort of way," Lily lied. "This journalist—if she can call herself that—has blown everything way out of proportion."
"Of course she has, we know," Alice reassured her. "Abominable the way she's made Frank look—like he's been passed over for Sirius."
Alice's concern for Frank didn't escape her. "He'll survive," was all Lily offered. But it seemed her indifference didn't escape Alice, either. "You'll have to excuse me. After last night's fun I need to devote some time to my Potion's essay this afternoon."
"Why don't I walk you out? I'm on my way to Quidditch practice," Rudolf suggested, rising from his seat along with Lily.
She smiled in weak affirmation and the two headed out of the Dining Hall together. This time, the stares that followed her were accompanied by whispers, eyes darting between her and the magazines clutched in subscribers' hands.
"Don't look so glum, it'll blow over," Rudolf reassured, looping an arm around hers. "They're all just envious that you're friends with so many good-looking wizards—myself included, of course."
As they spilled into the Entrance Hall, Lily gave his arm a squeeze. "That's nice of you to say. But I suppose we're only fueling rumors, whispering together like this. You were mentioned in the article, after all."
"At least you're doing wonders for my reputation," he teased. "To think, with a harem of society's most eligible wizards fighting for your arm, you'd privilege me the opportunity to escort you from the lunch hall."
"You're one lucky bugger," Lily grinned, her unladylike exclamation making Rudolf burst out in merry laughter.
"Well, well, well…" a silken voice purred from behind the duo, cutting their amusement short. "If it isn't Hogwarts newest harlot and her pet fag."
Narcissa Black's words hit Lily like a hammer to the face.
"Funny how you were passed around from one society wizard to another last night and this is who you've chosen to show for it the morning after," Narcissa sneered, her cruel eyes devouring Rudolf, who—to Lily's astonishment—seemed deeply unconcerned. "Honestly, Aurora, is one rich nobleman not enough for your appetite?"
It was Lily's first encounter with Narcissa since beginning at Hogwarts. She'd certainly spied the blonde beauty from across the Dining Hall, surrounded by a posse of Slytherins hanging off her every word, but they hadn't shared any classes together. Evidently, Narcissa had been waiting for the right moment to strike, when she had enough ammunition to make it count.
"You're such a peach in the mornings, Narcissa," Rudolf countered coolly, taking over for Lily, who couldn't seem to form a coherent word, her jaw hinging and unhinging, face rosy. "I suggest you keep your jealousy for Aurora to yourself; green really isn't a flattering colour for you. Shame you're in Slytherin."
"That's really the best you can come up with, Brand?" Narcissa snickered, brushing a swath of hair over her shoulders. A group of Slytherin girls stood a few paces behind her, watching their queen in veneration. "Why don't you go off to play Quidditch and let Aurora speak for herself like a big girl? You do so like to cross broomsticks with other men, don't you?"
Rudolf's face faltered; it was enough to revive Lily's wits. "I hardly think your ridiculous insinuations will concern Rudolf, Narcissa. He and I aren't much affected by the opinions of inbreeds."
Rudolf guffawed, causing Narcissa's eyes to flash and a scowl to contort her sharp-nosed face.
"Considering your disgusting display with Sirius last night, it seems to me you're the one endeavoring to mother some of your own bastard inbreeds," she snarled. "I suggest you stay away from my cousin; he may be practically burned from our family tree, but we don't need Dumbledore blood polluting the noble Black line."
"Not that it's any of your business, but I have no designs on Sirius whatsoever," Lily snapped, balling her hands into fists. "But if I did, he's certainly the only Black I'd bother associating with. The rest of you strike me as—well, I suppose your underdevelopment isn't your fault, considering it was your parents who decided to keep things in the family."
"Say one more word about my family and you'll regret the day you ever stepped foot in Hogwarts," Narcissa threatened under her breath, making Rudolf raise a brow.
Lily unearthed her wand, twirling it in her hand idly. "What are you going to do, Narcissa? Last I heard, all you were good at was prancing around with the other Arts majors."
Narcissa smiled at this. "I guess you'll find out, won't you?"
An hour later, Lily sat beneath her tree at the lake, knees pulled up to her chest. In the distance she could see a figure hovering before a three-ringed goal post on the Quidditch Pitch, ready to snag the quaffle being batted around by a practicing Gryffindor team. They flew about the pitch in streaks of red and gold. She figured James must be alright if the team practice had gone-ahead as scheduled, but it didn't help to diminish her feelings of anxiety. Were they destined to always be in a perpetual state of disagreement?
Her run-in with Narcissa hadn't helped matters. She mulled over the exchange, flinching at some of the words that'd been employed. The girl was awful—she really couldn't find one redeeming feature about her—and had unmistakably set her sights on an Aurora take-down. Lily guessed she posed a threat to her precious social order, encroaching on a place where the queen of Slytherin ruled, unchecked, and enjoyed the attentions of whomever she pleased. It was laughable, really, that Lily was in competition for popularity, especially since she was the bottom of the totem pole at St. Madeline's.
But it wasn't Narcissa's threat that bothered Lily the most; it was how easily she could rise to the occasion, insulting Narcissa's family with such confidence—such sanctimony. Was she even pretending to act like a society belle anymore, or had she morphed into one? She shuddered to think she was turning into anything that remotely resembled Narcissa Black—her new Acantha.
Lily hugged her knees closer, a cool breeze rustling the branches above her. Across the water mirroring the cloudy sky above, something caught her eye: Nymphadora Tonks and Amelia Bones, side-by-side, jogging around the perimeter of the lake. She straightened, interest piqued, keenly watching the determined duo, garbed in some kind of leisure dress with a hem sneaking north of the knees.
"Aurora?"
She startled at the familiar voice, mounting her feet as the figure who'd been standing above her came into view: Frank.
"What do you want?" Lily brushed dirt off her dress in an effort to avoid eye contact. When she was met with silence, she slid her eyes toward Frank, who was observing her solemnly. He appeared to have no sign of injury. "I'm surprised your face isn't black and blue after last night."
"Bruise-removal paste—the wonders of modern magical medicine," Frank quipped, his attempt at lightness falling flat. "Can we talk?"
"What would you like to talk about?" Lily requested coolly, though heat was beginning to build within her. "About how you incited a public ruckus last night? About your attempt at debasing and humiliating me? Or are you here to brag that you got a piece of me?"
Frank flinched with every accusation flung his way.
"Because honestly, Frank, I think your lecture last night was enough to last me for a while," Lily continued, angry tears suddenly prickling at the corners of her eyes. Their appearance made her even crosser.
"I wanted to express just how sorry—"
"No," Lily cut him off. "You don't get to apologize for being a brute last night. I thought we were friends—I trusted you, Frank—and you tossed all that out the window just to get in a jab at James. I was treated like a prize to be won—like a toy you got to play with first, even though you knew that kiss wasn't anything."
Frank moved to speak, but she pressed on, the words tumbling out impulsively. "And I know I've been reckless in the past—that I haven't properly paid you back for all the help you've given me, and I've given you more than one scare—but nothing I've ever done was to intentionally hurt you. But this—" she gestured between the two of them. "—and last night? I will not be controlled, Frank. I will not trade one cage for another."
"And I would never try to hurt you, Lily," Frank breathed, whispering her real name. "I know it's no excuse, but I'd had too much to drink and my anger carried me away."
"What exactly are you so angry about, Frank?" Lily demanded, her lip beginning to quiver. "Why this feud with James?"
Frank paused. His eyes roamed the grassy ground before he finally answered, his voice gentle as the breeze. "The problem is that kiss was something to me."
Lily opened her mouth to retort before suddenly closing it again. She blinked, the sentence sinking in gradually, then began to shift her weight from one foot to another, clasping her arms across her chest.
"I didn't mean to, but I did—do—have feelings for you. I didn't plan on that, and clearly it hasn't played out the way I would have liked," Frank faltered, hazarding an assessing glance her way. "I'd only really come to the realization when I kissed you that night. I…lied about doing it to ensure the disguise alone, shielding myself against possible rejection. Pathetic, I know. Then, that same night, you run off and come back with James Potter of all people, and the two of you declare your love for one another…I think that just intensified everything for me."
Lily descended back onto the cold ground, dazed, leaning against her willow tree for support. Her eyes found Amelia and Nymphadora again, the twosome keeping at their quick pace across the lake. It dawned on her that Sirius had been right. "I…I don't really know what to say to that, Frank."
"You don't need to say anything," he replied, sinking onto the ground beside her. "I know the way I acted last night was reprehensible—it was jealousy talking. You know…well, at least you do now…that I think the world of you."
A knot bunched in Lily's stomach, tighter than ever. "I suppose it explains things."
"Yes, I suppose so."
Lily looked back to Frank, who she was now shoulder-to-shoulder with. Despite everything, she still felt comfortable—safe—with him. "So where do we go from here?"
Frank mustered enough bravery to match Lily's stare. "I'm going to stay away for a while—give you the space you need to start off the school year right."
"What? How will that work?" Lily asked, concern colouring her tone.
"I'm going to speak to Dumbledore and tell him it's not in your best interest—nor mine, really—to continue this courting charade any longer," Frank said. "I know now that my judgment is compromised where you're concerned; in fact, I'm not sure he'll keep me on your team of protectors at all anymore. I'll always keep an eye out for you, though."
Lily suddenly felt wretched at the thought of Frank disappearing from her life. They'd spent the better part of a summer with one another, locked together in a secret mission of sorts. He might've been an absolute ass last night, but it didn't mean she wanted him out of her life entirely…
But maybe he needed the separation as much as she did—to properly move on. How could she ask him to stay and overcome the feelings he had for her? And would that be fair to James, who knew what was between them now?
"I should also tell you…James and I spoke," Frank continued, wrenching Lily from her theorizing. "After we grew tired of pummeling each other. Surprising, I know."
"And what was discussed?" Lily ventured.
"Well…he had me admit to…my fondness for you, which he recognized from the get-go, and persuaded me to tell you for all of our sakes," Frank dithered, staring down at his hands, folded nearly in his lap. "Something about lying in a mess of your own blood and broken teeth humbles you, I suppose. Anyways, he also told me that—should you choose to be with me—he would step aside. But if you didn't, it was time that I did."
Frank dug his hands into his pockets, offering Lily a sardonic smile. "There wasn't a question you would choose him, so I decided it was time to make peace with that—and with you. James and I struck a truce because it was you getting caught in our cross-fire."
Lily smiled weakly, an attempt at forgiveness—the least she could do in light of his confession. "Hard to imagine you two having a civil conversation."
"I think we've worked out our differences now," Frank sighed, then grinned at the memory. "But it took busting his nose to do it properly."
Lily chuckled, the internal knot beginning to loosen. "Men, honestly."
"You should also know that he's not angry with you," Frank said, climbing to his feet. Lily arose with him, feeling faintly awkward. "I explained the circumstances surrounding the kiss—that it was all me. I'm sure he understands why you didn't bring it up."
"I still should have been honest," Lily murmured. "But thank you—for talking to him and for telling me the truth. I'm sure that…wasn't easy."
"A British lord expressing his feelings? No, that was torturous," Frank laughed, though it was devoid of real happiness—a heartbreaking sound rather than a joyous one. "I'm going to get going now…but should you need me for anything—as your friend, which I hope I still am—owl me, alright?"
Lily nodded, willing away the tears that were now threatening to spill in wild abandon again. "You are, Frank. Of course you are."
With the previous night's argument already a thing of the past, Lily wrapped her arms around Frank, holding him tightly. She swallowed when he hugged her in return, trying not to read into the intensity in which he clung to her. "This isn't good-bye, promise me."
Frank acquiesced, releasing her. As he turned to saunter away, she noticed his head hung lower than usual. Lily's heart crumpled in her chest. "Frank?"
The sandy-haired wizard stopped in his tracks, revolving towards her voice. Her breathing felt shallow as she said, "If James…if he hadn't come back…there…might have been something between us. I'm sorry for…for…"
"You don't need to apologize for someone loving you," Frank murmured, giving her one more long look before he turned to disappear into the depths of the castle.
From Lily's vantage point under the bleachers nearest the locker rooms, she counted as each Gryffindor player exited and headed across the pitch toward the castle, some lugging their broomsticks and others with a sweaty towel wrapped around their neck. She remained hidden in the shadows until she was certain only one person remained behind.
The men's changing room was much as she expected it to be—messy, moist and stinky. The small space was lined with lockers on two sides, with a row of showers on the far wall. Abandoned quaffles and piles of dirty uniforms doted the tiled floors and a cloud of steam still wafted, making the atmosphere hazy and warm. In the middle of the room, seated on a long bench, was James, hair wet and towel around his middle, his face gathered up in his hands as he leaned his elbows on his knees.
Lily hesitated, feeling suddenly skittish due to his attire—or lack thereof—but it was clear something was troubling him and she wanted to know what.
"James?"
He looked up, squinting through the mist at her, then grabbed his glasses and fixed them on his nose. "Lily? This is the last place I thought of running into you…"
She blushed, wondering if she'd been a bit too daring, but crossed the room to sit beside him anyways. "Sorry for pushing in…I just wanted to talk to you about last night. And when I didn't hear from you this morning…"
James frowned, looking down toward his hands. "I may have been avoiding you…I wanted to put my face right again before finding you to apologize."
Lily's brow knit together. She didn't see any sign that he'd been in a fight last night either. Wonders of modern magical medicine, indeed. "What do you have to apologize for?"
James looked surprised. "For losing my head last night. I wasn't thinking straight—how getting into a quarrel with Frank would affect your disguise or play out in the damn papers the next morning. And I didn't escort you home last night."
"It's alright…mixing that much alcohol with heated emotion…locking that many people in a dark, crowded room together…things were bound to get a little out of control."
"I hope you don't have any regrets?" James looked worried.
"The storeroom you mean?" Lily turned pink again, but smiled. "That was the best part of my night."
Relieved, he grinned, looping an arm around her to pull her closer. Lily swallowed hard, her proximity to his bare chest and barely-covered…well, her heart was beating a little faster to say the least. "It was the best part of my night, too. I think a lot of my temper stemmed from being interrupted."
"Speaking of…Frank and I talked this morning."
His smile slipped, brown eyes deepening. "He's told you then—everything?"
"Yes…he's admitted to his feelings for me," Lily said, though saying it still seemed foreign. "He says he's going away for a while…to give me space."
"Good," James said, though he didn't seem angry anymore. "It isn't fair to you, to have to carry on this pretense with someone who actually wants to be with you."
"It isn't really fair to you either," Lily sighed, leaning into him. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before…"
"I wish you had, but maybe this is the way it had to play out," James said, toying with a strand of her hair. "I must thank Sirius for getting you home in one piece last night."
"Who would've thought he'd be the reliable one out of all of us?" Lily chuckled, savouring the feel of his fingers tickling her neck. "He threw up in my bathtub this morning—while I was heaving in the toilet. It was slightly mortifying."
James whistled. "Merlin, he really must have packed them back last night if he got to that point. I always knew you were a light weight, though."
"Hey!" Lily poked James in the chest, making him chortle. "Watch what you say—I may scoop up your clothing and go running for the hills. You'll be stranded here, totally naked."
"I'd still have my towel," James pointed out, his eyes beginning to dance.
"Perhaps I'd take that, too."
"Why you naughty girl," James breathed in her ear, his hand slipping from her knee to under the hem of her dress. "Perhaps I'll steal your clothes too so you'll be stuck here with me."
"What a horrible thought…" Lily murmured, allowing James to ease her back onto the bench so she was lying across it, the towel-clad wizard positioning himself on top of her. The steam was causing her hair to stick to her forehead and neck, but she didn't care; she was too smitten by the way James' messy hair fell around his face—by the water droplets slinking down his chiseled chest. "What will the Quidditch team think when they find their coach so compromised?"
"They've seen their coach in a towel before," James trailed kisses down Lily's neck, her skin prickling against his lips as he began to unbutton the front of her dress.
"But how about without?" Lily mused, suddenly struck by bolt of courage as she gently curled her fingers around the terrycloth fabric and pulled it away from James' body, exposing him in all of his splendid glory.
Taking in every inch of him, her breath catching, she locked her longing eyes with his surprised, desirous ones. She felt afraid and exhilarated at the same time. James pressed his hard body against hers and she slid a hand around his back, slowly letting is slid toward his buttocks.
"Like what you see, Lady Everard?"
Lily nodded, at a loss for words for the second time that day. James dipped his head to press his lips against hers, and she felt her button-up dress fall away around her. Caught up in their wild embrace, Lily didn't notice as the door to the men's changing room magically lock shut, or that one of the showers suddenly turned on, dousing the room in a fresh wave of steam.
"You need to tell me when you want to stop," James said between kisses, his hand toying with the clasp of her brassiere. "I could do this all day and I could take it to the end—so you need to tell me when to stop."
"Take the rest of my clothes off," Lily whispered back, combing her fingers through his hair as she pulled him closer to deepen the kiss.
When he did, James pulled away to look at her, his entreating eyes clouding over. "You're beautiful," he breathed.
They stared at one another, both overcome with anticipation, both reflecting on coming so far together. Before Lily had a chance to feel self-conscience, James scooped her up into his arms, cradling her against his chest, and walked toward the sputtering shower.
Author's Notes
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