Sing With Me, Dance With Me, A Pretty Melody
Chapter Five of The Ladies' Man
by Marie McKinnon
A/N: I lied a little. We don't go straight into the Bat Mitzvah party scene in this chapter,
but it's in here. Thanks to all wonderful reviewers, especially potterschik, who reviewed all of the
chapters in quick succesion.
*
Dear Journal,
I can't believe what I just did. I just blurted out everything about Margeurite and
told someone all about why I don't trust Fate. The worst part is, that someone was James Potter.
He's really been getting to me these past few days, even though I did save him from death by
freezing. Ingrateful b******. I honestly don't understand him, though. He's rude, obnoxious,
and hateful one day, then suddenly sweet, like one of my best friends, and then he's acting
perverted and is hitting on me. It doesn't make any sense. Perhaps he has schizophrenia.
The really strange thing is that I'm thinking about all of this. In a normal state of mind, I'd
just dismiss it as unimportant because I'd know that I hate Potter and I wouldn't worry about it.
There's a really big question now. Do I still hate him, or have I had a change of heart? Don't be
stupid. I still hate him, of course. Then why do I think about him so much? Because I hate him
and want to finish him off once and for all. Yeah, that's it.
Who am I fooling? I always said I'd be completely honest with this journal. I used to
wonder why Potter singled me out as a victim, and that got me to thinking that he liked me.
Thinking about that probably gave me a crush on him. Stop lying, you know that's not all the
way true. It wasn't just a crush. You *love* him. I ought to erase that right now! I do not, by
anyone's standards, love James Potter. Maybe I have a crush on him or like him, but not love.
The all-school ball was a week or so ago, though I was too busy answering Bat Mitzvah
invitations to go. As Fate (I hate it even more now) would have it, Potter and I were the only
ones in the common room. Being the jerk he is, he plopped right down next to me and started
talking to me. I told him I was busy, but, of course, he didn't listen and kept talking. I bashed
him over the head with a book several times, though that didn't seem to do anything.
"Are you trying to crack my head open?" He'd asked.
"No," I'd snapped, angry at having my peaceful evening destroyed. "You're sufficiently
cracked as it is."
I like that line. Oh well. My Bat Mitzvah is tomorrow, so I'd better get to sleep.
Unfortunately, Potter is able to go to that one, so I'm stuck with having to be polite to him,
Lucius Malfoy, Sirius Black, etc. My mother wrote the invitations, but I'm the one who has to
undergo the suffering. This isn't justice!
~*Lily*~
*
Journal-Thing,
Oi. Tonight's Lily's Bat Mitzvah party thingiemajig. She's been
complaining to her friends that her mum will try to set her up with someone, which means I have a
chance after all. Why do I care? I don't like her. Do I? I've always kind of singled her out, and
I can't say she isn't pretty, but she hates me. And I hate her. D*** it, I forgot this thing crosses
lies out. So--- I don't hate her, and she doesn't hate me? I don't hate her, but I don't love her
either. What?! That was erased? What the H*** is wrong with this lie-detector journal? Mum
said it worked, but this is crazy. Let's just see what happens. This isn't true. I love Lily Evans.
Okay, something's messed up with this thing. It's crossing out what I said wasn't tr--- Oh God.
It thinks I love Lily. Hunh? What just happened? It crossed out two letters, so now it reads I
think I love Lil-- d***. This thing really has one idea stuck in its head, and it won't let me tell the
truth. What it said about Lily wasn't true. Was true? How?
~Lying won't get you anything, writer. You love the girl.~
It wrote back to me?
~Yes.~
And it says I love Lily?
~If you can't lie in this journal, neither can I. You love her.~
I love Lily?
~Took you long enough.~
Why did Mum have to pick the one with the sense of humor?
~That really doesn't matter right now. You love her.~
Stuck on one idea, aren't you? You're beginning to sound like what the Muggles call a
broken record.
~Do you think I care?~
Not particularly, but that's all right. I need to put you down for a minute. Apparently,
I'm in love and didn't know it.
~That's true as well.~
Oh, shut up, will you?
-James ~The head over heels lucky dog cause he's a human and can have a
girl instead of a bunch of pages. Now, that's true.~
*
Later that night, Lily stood alone in the Great hall, waiting for the other sixth years to
come. Her mother and father rested sedately at a table for adults, though mostly those would be
teachers. For some reason, Lily's relatives had balked at coming to a school for wizards and
witches to congratulate her. She didn't really care. None of them were really all that lovable.
It was seven-thirty on the dot. A crowd was building up outside, talking, giggling, and
smushing against the door in their eagerness to enter. Lily grinned. This was going to be fun. A
house-elf opened the door, and a stampede occured, nearly trampling him. She was almost sure
she'd heard him say ' Nimpy has never been more insulted, no Nimpy has not!', but that was
when she was bombarded with guests.
Couples started breaking away from the mob, dancing exuberantly. Glad she wasn't
expected to have a partner, Lily walked around, making sure everyone was content. They were;
some were so deeply immersed in their own affairs that they didn't realize when she was asking
them a question. She took their silence as a sign of general enjoyment, and started teaching a
dance to some of the other girls.
That night was a whirl of dancing, laughing, and talking for Lily. She danced alone or
with a group of others, but never with a boy. Her mother seemed severely disappointed about
this, but didn't comment until the very last dance, which, as Lily's least favourite deity would
have it, was a slow dance.
"Lily, dear, I wish you'd ask one of these nice young gentleman to dance with you. They
seem so nice and polite. Not all of them are as bad as you say, I'm sure. In fact, why don't you
and this charming young man" she motioned to James, who was standing alone in the centre of
the room "have a dance? He's as polite as can be, he was conversing with me earlier..."
Under her mother's evil eye, there was nothing Lily could have done to save herself. She
got into the ballroom dancing stance, as far away from her partner as possible. Uncomfortably,
they started dancing. No words came to mind, so they just revolved around the same spot on the
floor, unspeaking.
"Hey, Yvonne, is that who I think it is?"
"If it is, they're going about it the wrong way," Yvonne replied, motioning towards James
and Lily. "What say we fix them?"
"Sure!"
Trying not to touch James, Lily anxiously wondered when the song would be over. It
seemed torturously long. As if out of the blue, he let go of her hand and took the other one off of
her back. She started to move away, relieved, but he suddenly had his arms around her waist.
"Potter, what the H*** are you doing?"
"I'm not! Someone's moving my arms, and--"
"Not ruddy likely. Get your slimy hands off me, NOW." Before any more rude words
could escape her, Lily's arms, as of their own accord, linked together around her partner's neck.
"We thought you'd be happier that way," Arriana giggled.
"You looked really uncomfortable before. Don't try to change position, we'd just have to
fix it again." With that, Arriana and Yvonne walked away to be 'innocent bystanders' once more.
"Look, sorry, I didn't know they moved your arms for you, I thought--"
"It's okay. I don't really blame you."
In his arms, she didn't think she'd ever been that close to anyone before. Warm hands
around her waist, handsome face hovering above her head... many girls would have loved to be
in her position. Just the fact that her body was betraying her made Lily angry at herself. She
knew she was enjoying the dance, knew that she didn't really hate James as much as she said (if at
all), but this revelation was going against the grain by so much that she resolved to be twice as
b***** to him later.
The goddess in his arms couldn't be real. So slim, so elegant, so perfect, so gorgeous... It
reminded James of the time they'd fallen off their brooms, when her red hair had spread out over
the snow, making a striking contrast. Now, no snow was in sight, but the white silk of her
sleeveless dress seemed an admirable substitute. Big green eyes stared up at him out of an ovaline
face, round like a china doll's, but so much better, because a china doll would never jump up and
talk to you, never would smile and smirk. Being that close to her was almost a torture; he knew
she only put up with him because her mother was breathing down her neck. Well, it was worth it
while it lasted.
The music ended, and slowly, reluctantly, Lily and James stopped dancing and moved
apart. They walked up to Gryffindor tower together, not arguing for once. At the common room
they parted, but not before Lily called over her shoulder.
"Hey, James?"
"What?"
"Thanks for the dance."
Disclaimer: The idea for that Bat Mitzvah scene belongs to Amarria Rosetti. Thanks,
Mars! As you might have guessed, I don't own the Jewish religion or the Bat/Bar Mitzvah
ceremony. Nor do I own the Harry Potter characters. I don't even own Yvonne--she's Aunt
Petunia's friend from the first two books. Arriana is mine, but that's it. If any of you were
surprised by the lack of flower name for Lily's 'younger sister,' you were wrong. Margeurite
means daisy in French. Don't sue me, 'kay? Oh, and hi to Mahree Avocado (citrus cult rocks!),
Mars, Korrinna, and Lorialei. Sabrina Myst too, if she ever reads this, which I highly doubt.
Thanks to all wonderful reviewers. I'll thank you all by name at the very end. In the meantime (or
the nicetime, whichever you prefer), you're welcome to continue reviewing. Hint, hint...
Just a personal note: I can't believe it! I've got a new cousin! My aunt and uncle are
adopting a baby from Russia, and they got the call to go get her the other day. Her name's Anna
Christina, and she's just adorable, only a year old... Mom is sending her some of my old baby
clothes, the poor girl will be buried...
Chapter Five of The Ladies' Man
by Marie McKinnon
A/N: I lied a little. We don't go straight into the Bat Mitzvah party scene in this chapter,
but it's in here. Thanks to all wonderful reviewers, especially potterschik, who reviewed all of the
chapters in quick succesion.
*
Dear Journal,
I can't believe what I just did. I just blurted out everything about Margeurite and
told someone all about why I don't trust Fate. The worst part is, that someone was James Potter.
He's really been getting to me these past few days, even though I did save him from death by
freezing. Ingrateful b******. I honestly don't understand him, though. He's rude, obnoxious,
and hateful one day, then suddenly sweet, like one of my best friends, and then he's acting
perverted and is hitting on me. It doesn't make any sense. Perhaps he has schizophrenia.
The really strange thing is that I'm thinking about all of this. In a normal state of mind, I'd
just dismiss it as unimportant because I'd know that I hate Potter and I wouldn't worry about it.
There's a really big question now. Do I still hate him, or have I had a change of heart? Don't be
stupid. I still hate him, of course. Then why do I think about him so much? Because I hate him
and want to finish him off once and for all. Yeah, that's it.
Who am I fooling? I always said I'd be completely honest with this journal. I used to
wonder why Potter singled me out as a victim, and that got me to thinking that he liked me.
Thinking about that probably gave me a crush on him. Stop lying, you know that's not all the
way true. It wasn't just a crush. You *love* him. I ought to erase that right now! I do not, by
anyone's standards, love James Potter. Maybe I have a crush on him or like him, but not love.
The all-school ball was a week or so ago, though I was too busy answering Bat Mitzvah
invitations to go. As Fate (I hate it even more now) would have it, Potter and I were the only
ones in the common room. Being the jerk he is, he plopped right down next to me and started
talking to me. I told him I was busy, but, of course, he didn't listen and kept talking. I bashed
him over the head with a book several times, though that didn't seem to do anything.
"Are you trying to crack my head open?" He'd asked.
"No," I'd snapped, angry at having my peaceful evening destroyed. "You're sufficiently
cracked as it is."
I like that line. Oh well. My Bat Mitzvah is tomorrow, so I'd better get to sleep.
Unfortunately, Potter is able to go to that one, so I'm stuck with having to be polite to him,
Lucius Malfoy, Sirius Black, etc. My mother wrote the invitations, but I'm the one who has to
undergo the suffering. This isn't justice!
~*Lily*~
*
Journal-Thing,
Oi. Tonight's Lily's Bat Mitzvah party thingiemajig. She's been
complaining to her friends that her mum will try to set her up with someone, which means I have a
chance after all. Why do I care? I don't like her. Do I? I've always kind of singled her out, and
I can't say she isn't pretty, but she hates me. And I hate her. D*** it, I forgot this thing crosses
lies out. So--- I don't hate her, and she doesn't hate me? I don't hate her, but I don't love her
either. What?! That was erased? What the H*** is wrong with this lie-detector journal? Mum
said it worked, but this is crazy. Let's just see what happens. This isn't true. I love Lily Evans.
Okay, something's messed up with this thing. It's crossing out what I said wasn't tr--- Oh God.
It thinks I love Lily. Hunh? What just happened? It crossed out two letters, so now it reads I
think I love Lil-- d***. This thing really has one idea stuck in its head, and it won't let me tell the
truth. What it said about Lily wasn't true. Was true? How?
~Lying won't get you anything, writer. You love the girl.~
It wrote back to me?
~Yes.~
And it says I love Lily?
~If you can't lie in this journal, neither can I. You love her.~
I love Lily?
~Took you long enough.~
Why did Mum have to pick the one with the sense of humor?
~That really doesn't matter right now. You love her.~
Stuck on one idea, aren't you? You're beginning to sound like what the Muggles call a
broken record.
~Do you think I care?~
Not particularly, but that's all right. I need to put you down for a minute. Apparently,
I'm in love and didn't know it.
~That's true as well.~
Oh, shut up, will you?
-James ~The head over heels lucky dog cause he's a human and can have a
girl instead of a bunch of pages. Now, that's true.~
*
Later that night, Lily stood alone in the Great hall, waiting for the other sixth years to
come. Her mother and father rested sedately at a table for adults, though mostly those would be
teachers. For some reason, Lily's relatives had balked at coming to a school for wizards and
witches to congratulate her. She didn't really care. None of them were really all that lovable.
It was seven-thirty on the dot. A crowd was building up outside, talking, giggling, and
smushing against the door in their eagerness to enter. Lily grinned. This was going to be fun. A
house-elf opened the door, and a stampede occured, nearly trampling him. She was almost sure
she'd heard him say ' Nimpy has never been more insulted, no Nimpy has not!', but that was
when she was bombarded with guests.
Couples started breaking away from the mob, dancing exuberantly. Glad she wasn't
expected to have a partner, Lily walked around, making sure everyone was content. They were;
some were so deeply immersed in their own affairs that they didn't realize when she was asking
them a question. She took their silence as a sign of general enjoyment, and started teaching a
dance to some of the other girls.
That night was a whirl of dancing, laughing, and talking for Lily. She danced alone or
with a group of others, but never with a boy. Her mother seemed severely disappointed about
this, but didn't comment until the very last dance, which, as Lily's least favourite deity would
have it, was a slow dance.
"Lily, dear, I wish you'd ask one of these nice young gentleman to dance with you. They
seem so nice and polite. Not all of them are as bad as you say, I'm sure. In fact, why don't you
and this charming young man" she motioned to James, who was standing alone in the centre of
the room "have a dance? He's as polite as can be, he was conversing with me earlier..."
Under her mother's evil eye, there was nothing Lily could have done to save herself. She
got into the ballroom dancing stance, as far away from her partner as possible. Uncomfortably,
they started dancing. No words came to mind, so they just revolved around the same spot on the
floor, unspeaking.
"Hey, Yvonne, is that who I think it is?"
"If it is, they're going about it the wrong way," Yvonne replied, motioning towards James
and Lily. "What say we fix them?"
"Sure!"
Trying not to touch James, Lily anxiously wondered when the song would be over. It
seemed torturously long. As if out of the blue, he let go of her hand and took the other one off of
her back. She started to move away, relieved, but he suddenly had his arms around her waist.
"Potter, what the H*** are you doing?"
"I'm not! Someone's moving my arms, and--"
"Not ruddy likely. Get your slimy hands off me, NOW." Before any more rude words
could escape her, Lily's arms, as of their own accord, linked together around her partner's neck.
"We thought you'd be happier that way," Arriana giggled.
"You looked really uncomfortable before. Don't try to change position, we'd just have to
fix it again." With that, Arriana and Yvonne walked away to be 'innocent bystanders' once more.
"Look, sorry, I didn't know they moved your arms for you, I thought--"
"It's okay. I don't really blame you."
In his arms, she didn't think she'd ever been that close to anyone before. Warm hands
around her waist, handsome face hovering above her head... many girls would have loved to be
in her position. Just the fact that her body was betraying her made Lily angry at herself. She
knew she was enjoying the dance, knew that she didn't really hate James as much as she said (if at
all), but this revelation was going against the grain by so much that she resolved to be twice as
b***** to him later.
The goddess in his arms couldn't be real. So slim, so elegant, so perfect, so gorgeous... It
reminded James of the time they'd fallen off their brooms, when her red hair had spread out over
the snow, making a striking contrast. Now, no snow was in sight, but the white silk of her
sleeveless dress seemed an admirable substitute. Big green eyes stared up at him out of an ovaline
face, round like a china doll's, but so much better, because a china doll would never jump up and
talk to you, never would smile and smirk. Being that close to her was almost a torture; he knew
she only put up with him because her mother was breathing down her neck. Well, it was worth it
while it lasted.
The music ended, and slowly, reluctantly, Lily and James stopped dancing and moved
apart. They walked up to Gryffindor tower together, not arguing for once. At the common room
they parted, but not before Lily called over her shoulder.
"Hey, James?"
"What?"
"Thanks for the dance."
Disclaimer: The idea for that Bat Mitzvah scene belongs to Amarria Rosetti. Thanks,
Mars! As you might have guessed, I don't own the Jewish religion or the Bat/Bar Mitzvah
ceremony. Nor do I own the Harry Potter characters. I don't even own Yvonne--she's Aunt
Petunia's friend from the first two books. Arriana is mine, but that's it. If any of you were
surprised by the lack of flower name for Lily's 'younger sister,' you were wrong. Margeurite
means daisy in French. Don't sue me, 'kay? Oh, and hi to Mahree Avocado (citrus cult rocks!),
Mars, Korrinna, and Lorialei. Sabrina Myst too, if she ever reads this, which I highly doubt.
Thanks to all wonderful reviewers. I'll thank you all by name at the very end. In the meantime (or
the nicetime, whichever you prefer), you're welcome to continue reviewing. Hint, hint...
Just a personal note: I can't believe it! I've got a new cousin! My aunt and uncle are
adopting a baby from Russia, and they got the call to go get her the other day. Her name's Anna
Christina, and she's just adorable, only a year old... Mom is sending her some of my old baby
clothes, the poor girl will be buried...
