Tangerine Dream Chapter 2: An Angel's Transformation

Wings and ivory, golden rings

She's dreaming of such wonderful things

Died a while ago, everyone forgot

But she's back, she's back again

And an angel's undergone a transformation

Now she's sweet, serene, and grape crush sixteen

You're falling all over her again

Just because it's an angel's transformation

Black velveteen and emerald green

Ivory colored tangible dreams

An angel's transformation…

          "I still can't believe you're going stag," Sirius said to James. "It's so painful, a Marauder without a date… people are going to think you couldn't get a date at all!"

          "They can think what they want," James said breezily. "Now I can dance with everyone."

          "You mean guys with dates aren't allowed to?" Sirius asked worriedly. "Because I was kind of hoping to get a few dances with Bella…"

          "I'm sure Kimmy won't mind, provided you get Max Grindler to dance with her. I've seen her eying him quite a few times," said Remus conspiratorially.

          "That's true!" Sirius exclaimed, brightening rapidly. "Oh, good. I even have blackmail on Max, I think…"

          "Happy endings. Max doesn't have a date, either."

          "I love my life," sighed Sirius blissfully. He ran a hand through his black hair and pulled on the sleeve of his crystal-gray robes impatiently. "Ready, you guys?"

          "Of course," said Remus dryly. "We were waiting for you, you know—"

          "Good," Sirius interrupted, ignoring Remus' comment. "Pothead, hurry up."

          "Don't call me Pothead!" insisted James. "Are we going or not?"

*

          "Hagrid, this is a Muggle dress," Lily suddenly realized. "It's not a Muggle ball."

          "I was talkin' ter Dumbledore, an' he said yeh'd fit righ' in. Apparently a lo' of th' students dress like Muggles. Besides, everyone'll be ter busy starin' at yeh ter care whet'er yeh're wearin' Muggle clothes or no'."

          "Thank you, Hagrid," Lily said quietly, blushing to the roots of her equally red hair. She turned to the mirror. "I do look okay, don't I?"

          Lily looked more than "okay". By far. The ivory dress clung lightly to her curves, showing off skin roughly a shade darker than the fabric, and contrasting her vibrant hair and eyes. Her dark red hair was let loose in its normal mane of loose curls, and her brilliant green eyes were wide in her face. She was void of makeup or hair styling, but she managed to look like an angel all the same, succeeding so well, in fact, that if she had had wings and a halo, few would notice the difference.

          Hagrid noticed this and snorted. Lily turned to him, hurt.

          "Well, Hagrid, you're supposed to say 'yes, Lily, you look fantastic', even if I do look like crap," Lily informed him.

          "Lily, yeh look so positivutely gorgeous tha' any guy who doesn't fall heel unde' head is blin'," Hagrid said bluntly. "Now ge' yer arse over there or yeh'll be late."

          "Oh, but Hagrid, isn't fashionably late the only way to go?" Lily inquired lightly with a dazzling smile, before she grabbed the matching, sheer, ivory shawl and ran out into the night, traipsing down the path she had shoveled to the castle late that afternoon, the same path that was already covered in a light snow.

*

          "Sirius, this school has too many Emma's," James hissed into his friend's ear as Emma Donaldson, the third Emma (after Emma Cratzoniel, a fourth year, and Emma Gardner, his previous fifth-year girlfriend) he had danced with that night, dragged him out onto the dance floor. Emma Donaldson was a blonde with annoyingly shiny and perfect hair, a pointy nose, washed-out blue eyes, and a sparkly washed-out blue dress that matched her eyes perfectly but did absolutely nothing for her figure.

          "Hey, you decided to come single," Sirius replied with a sadistic smile. "It's your fault."

          "I know!" wailed James. "I know!"

          It was about a minute later than he noticed the redhead, and, having finally found an excuse to get away from Emma Donaldson (who he had begun to think of as Emma Washyson), he ventured off in that general direction with a "I'm kinda thirsty" and "no, you don't have to get my drink for me" to Emma.

          It had taken a while for people to catch sight of the petite girl, but once they noticed, they didn't stop noticing. She had some sort of glow surrounding her, like shy awe… like an angel.

          "Hi—"

          "I'm—"

          "So—"

          "Y'know—"

          "Would you like to dance?"

          She turned towards the oasis in a world of monosyllables and smiled a brilliant smile that made all the admirers surrounding her trip over their own feet.

          "I'd love to," she said.

          All her admirers sighed an envious sigh and glared at James Potter, who was once more stealing the girl, as he had done ever since first year. No chance for the normal people when the dashingly handsome Quidditch star and prefect who had excellent grades was on the case.

          But neither she nor James was bothering with these opinions as they whirled out onto the dance floor.

          "I'm James Potter," James informed her. She smiled again. God, she had a nice smile.

          "I know."

          "Oh, you watched the last Quidditch game?"

          "No," she said, still smiling.

          "You're a prefect?"

          "No."

          "Then how do you know who I am?"

          "Everyone knows who you are," she told him. "Don't they?"

          "I suppose. So, now that we've decided who I am, who are you?" he inquired. Her smile vanished.

          "Why do you want to know?"

          "I've never seen you before."

          "I'm not particularly an extrovert."

          "Oh, but it's great fun!"

          "I'm sure," she said. A mysterious smile.

          James had never had this much of an easygoing, lighthearted conversation with a girl. It had always been "do you love me?" or "I love you, Jamesie" or something. All of his girlfriends had been oblivious to the fact that he hated nicknames—well, except Arabella Figg in fourth year, but she called no one except Sirius ("Siri", "Syre", "Doggy"… the list went on and on) nicknames, so that really didn't count. It had always been Jamesie or Jimmy or—worst of all—Jamie Jim. He shuddered at that thought.

          "Something wrong?" she questioned. "You shuddered."

          "Nothing… went off on a tangent. So, what is your name?"

          "My name," she repeated.

          "Yes, please."

          "Is there a particular reason for wanting my name?"

          She accented R's and N's. It made her words sound like music, delightful music.

          "Do you want me to call you 'Hey, you' all night?"

          "Maybe that's my name."

          James laughed, and all the girls stood in envy of the girl who had made the famous James Potter laugh. Laugh! Really…

          "I don't think so," he said.

          "You're right, it's not."

          "Do you want me to guess?"

          "Why don't you?"

          "Diane."

          "No."

          "Rachel."

          "No."

          "Clydestrophy?"

          "Not even close."

          "Give me a hint?"

          "Why ever would I do that?"

          "So I can guess!"

          "You're doing a wonderful job."

          "Lily," flew out of his mouth suddenly as he recalled Hagrid's assistant. What color was her hair? Her eyes? For the life of him, he couldn't recall. She had been covered in dirt and soot and he hadn't paid that much attention…

          She paled. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

          "Your name is Lily!" James said triumphantly. She smiled.

          "My name… my name is…" She searched her mind rapidly for a name even close to hers. "Lydie Evanston."

          "Lydie." James sounded that out. "I like that name."

          "Thank you."

          "It's not English, is it?"

          "It's French. Lydia in English."

          "Lydie," mused James again. "Beautiful name."

          "Thank you. A second time."

          "What house are you in?"

          The song ended, and the angel pulled away.

          "Dance with me again?" he asked.

          "Why would you want to dance with little old me?"

          "I don't have anyone else to dance with," he reminded her.

          "Am I a last resort, then?" Her green eyes showed her amusement. "I think I better dance with someone else. No fair double dipping, James."

          His mouth opened slightly with amazement at that remark. No one, no one had ever turned down a second dance with James Potter… and certainly not with "No fair double dipping."

          "I'll see you later, then," James decided.

          "You may. Farewell."

*

          What the hell was that about, Lily? Lily asked herself. No fair double dipping? He thinks you're an idiot now, Lily… oh wait, you are one—you came to this ball!

          Lily was debating whether she should leave, stay, go sit sullenly in a corner, dance, dance with James, talk, or hang out at the refreshments table when once more, the choir of monosyllables began.

          "Would—"

          "You—"

          "Could—"

          "Dance—"

          "With me?"

          One voice finished the others off, and Lily turned with a weak smile.

          "No, I think I'm going to get a drink or something," she said.

          "Would—"

          "You—"

          "Could—"

          "Get a drink for you?"

          This time it was a different voice that finished them off, but it sounded exactly like the other time. Lily rubbed her head.

          "No, it's okay. Thanks anyway, though."

          One by one, the admirers drifted off, put out.

          "Lily Evans?" exclaimed someone breathlessly behind her. Lily's complexion went chalk-white as she turned.

          "My name—my name's not Lily Evans," she protested uncertainly. The girl, who had large brown eyes and chocolate-brown ringlets, shook her head with a mischievous smile.

          "Of course it is, Lily."

          "Bella…?" Lily asked, looking for resemblances to people she used to know.

          "Of course!" Arabella flung her arms around Lily. "I missed you, Lily—nobody to help me play pranks. 'Cept the Marauders, 'course, but I don't think that counts 'cause Siren and I are kinda involved right now. Kinda… key word. Plus, they can't think up half as good tricks as we could. Why are you here, Lily?"

          Lily's green eyes moved to the ground. "I wanted to go to a ball… it was a birthday present. I'm Hagrid's assistant, you know."

          "Really." Arabella looked hard at Lily with those large brown depths and shook her head. "I never knew… I'll come visit you, really, I will. I really did miss you… you were my best friend, after all."

          "I missed you, too, Bella… all my friends—no one remembers me. Just you. I thought I'd get away with it, but… maybe not. I'm going as Lydie Evanston. Call me Lydie, if you ever see me, okay? Because the truth would come out if you didn't… and James would treat me horribly…"

          "James, eh?" Arabella smiled a huge smile. "I saw you dancing with him! Not bad, though I think Siren is cuter… 'course, I'm biased. Go for him, won't you? But be prepared for a short romance—James' has never had a girlfriend longer than a month. At least, not that Hogwarts knows about."

          "I'm not going for James," said Lily, turning a deep red to match her hair. "I'm a servant, Bella, in case you didn't notice why I don't hang out with you anymore."

          "You're not a servant, you're a grounds-keeping assistant. And what does that have to do with anything?"

          "Everything, Bella," said Lily softly. "Everything."

          Remus Lupin moved out of the shadows behind them, hazel eyes perplexed as he tried to solve the mystery that wouldn't take him long to solve at all…

*

          "I washed my finger," someone whispered into her ear as the song ended and she parted from her present dancing partner.

          "Hm?"

          "No double dipping, but I washed my finger."

          Turning around, Lily was met with the addictive, sparkling dark eyes of one Mr. James Potter.

          "You want to dance," she said, a smile slowly creeping across her face. "But didn't you hear? With me, it doesn't matter if you wash your fingers or not, because hopefully you used a spoon in the first place."

          "I see. You're too high-ranking for mere fingers."

          "Oh no," said Lily, pretending to be shocked. "Never. Just not your fingers."

          "I'm so hurt. Won't you dance with me?"

          "Can you make it sound any more appealing?"

          "Whilst thou, thy fair maiden of this ball, honor me with one dance to prove myself—and my fingers—worthy of her?"

          "Well, if you really did wash your fingers…"

          And they were off.

          "You dance very well, you know," James informed her.

          "I took ballroom dancing for two years… very horrible two years they were," said Lily, grimacing. "But I guess they helped?"

          "Yes," agreed James with a smile. "They did."

          "The only problems will come when they decide there's been enough waltzes," said Lily, and seemingly on cue, the band that had just finished setting up—Alohomora—grabbed the mic and introduced themselves and their song, and proceeded to slam out music on magical electric guitars and drums.

          "Never been more wide awake/ Never been more fast asleep/ Never been rich/ Never been poor/ I used to care/ I don't care anymore…" Sultry voices filled the room.

          "See? Told you. I don't know how to dance to this."

          "You know how to ballroom dance…"

          "Yes."

          "And any others?"

          "No—well, I can salsa dance." Lily winced. "But, no, we aren't going to do that."

          "Why not?" James asked brightly. "I can salsa. Come on, I'll even lead."

          "Oh, original, the guy leading," muttered Lily. "We're going to be humiliated."

          "Nah… not much, anyway." James took Lily's right hand. "Come on. What've you got to lose?"

          "My dignity?" But Lily sighed and put her left hand on his shoulder, feeling oddly pleased when his arm went under hers to support her upper back.

          "Ready, and go."

          "Alohomora and Alakazam/ Down in the dungeons in Azakaban/ Sooner or later/ Sooner or later…" sang Alohomora, and Lily shook her head.

          "This is completely not salsa dancing music."

          "Get into it, Lydie."

          Pain seared through her as she remembered that these people weren't accepting Lily, the servant, they were accepting Lydie, the student.

          "I'm going now," she muttered.

          "No, you aren't. Because I haven't finished double dipping…" James' dark eyes were twinkling merrily.

          "Fine, one song…" Step to the left, step to the right… and spin…

          "So what house are you in?" he asked.

          "Oh…" Oh no. She hadn't been anticipating this question. What was she supposed to say? He would sooner or later find out she wasn't in the house she said she was in.

          "Well?"

          "I have friends in my house." That was technically true, if you could count Hagrid's hut as a technical house and Hagrid and Fang as technical friends. Ouch, too many technical's.

          "That's good, so you're not an introvert."

          "Oh, I never said I wasn't an introvert."

          "So you're an extrovert?"

          "I never said that, either."

          "Then what are you?"

          "Why don't you decide?" Lily asked him with a smile.

          "Exintrovert," deigned James. Lily nodded agreement.

          "Precisely."

          "So what house are you in?" he tried again.

          "Isn't it more fun not knowing?"

          "No, not really."

          "Arabella Figg's one of my very good friends, you know."

          "So you're in Gryffindor?"

          "Do you oppose inter-house friendships?"

          "Depends."

          "On what?"

          "What houses they are."

          "What houses are you opposed to?"

          "I'm a Gryffindor, I don't like Slytherins much…"

          "That wasn't answering my question, you know. And what if I'm a Slytherin?"

          "If you're a Slytherin, the Sorting Hat was drunk when it sorted you."

          "I'd believe that."

          "So you're a Slytherin?"

          "I never said that."

          "Are you a Slytherin?"

          "Who wants to know?" Lily shot back, her eyes a shade darker than usual and shining.

          "I do," replied James, spinning her.

          "Oh, that's nice. I'm not a Slytherin."

          "Thank you, Merlin," James mouthed, causing Lily to laugh. Oh, that sweet laugh…

          "So," Lily began, stepping forward into the seductive steps. She had learned to salsa in fourth grade and had continued the lessons into fifth grade, as was her pattern—dancing lessons were allotted two years, music three, anything else, one.

          "So…?"

          "I was trying to get you to come up with something to talk about," she said. "Not coming up with something myself."

          "Sorry. How old are you?"

          "Sixteen… as of yesterday."

          "Happy belated birthday. So you're in sixth year?"

          "Can't you figure it out?"

          "You're being rude."

          "I'm dreadfully sorry." That, at least, was not sarcastic.

          "Nice to meet you, Dreadfully Sorry." And that brought a smile.

          "You as well, James Potter."

          The song ended, an unusually long song, but that was no matter.

          "One more dance? I'll use a different finger."

          Lily grabbed his hand and inspected his fingers.

          "Nope, too dirty."

          "Spoilsport."

          "I am not a spoilsport!"

          "You're right… you're not."

          "Thank you."

          "So will you dance with me?"

          "Fine…" Lily sighed. "But not the four-eight step this time, okay?"

          "Deal."

          "And you lead."

          "Of course, Lydie. Why wouldn't I?" James tried to look innocent. Lily squinted her eyes at him.

          "On second thought, maybe not—"

          "Oh, come on." James pulled her into the dance, slamming her body against his. "You're dying to dance with me."

          "You'd better stop before the professors get mad at us," Lily said uncomfortably. James grinned agreement and loosened his grip on her.

          "One, two, three…"

          Like it or not, James Potter was completely fascinated by this resurrected angel whom he could not name…

All her dreams, right down the toilet

Grape crush, new rug, sixteen, mother of seven

She's new and unused and so far, unabused

But someone's getting back at her

Gorgeous in ivory silk

She's gorgeous in ivory silk

To forget is only to remember

And we elephants never forget

We never forget

The resurrected

We never forget

An angel's transformation

An unlikely angel's transformation

Transformation…

Wow, I am really, really good at writing sucky fics, aren't I? Oh well… Dangit, I dunno what's going to happen next chapter. Maybe Lily's alter egos will start to catch up to her… I dunno. Whatever. Review, please?

And by the way… I'm looking for a fic that I want to read but can't find… It's L/J, involves summer holidays, a dancing club with Narcissa and Lucius, and kissing on a Quidditch field and at the dancing club, I think. And maybe a scene in a bathroom. I can't remember. If you even think you know what I'm talking about, please tell me, as I can't find the fic and would really like to read it… HEY, would you look at that… I found it. Yes, I am an idiot, yes, I am aware of this. Sorry. (The story is Unexpected Circumstances by ~*~13~*~… I don't know yet if it's got all the things I mentioned, I probably mixed up stories… oh well. Whatever.) Thanks, you guys. Later!

DISCLAIMER:

          All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, with the exception of Lily's fan club and the many Emma's.

          Since I'm changing the plot a lot, I don't really think that it's related much to Worst Nightmare's "Ever After: A Cinderella Story" except for the fact that Lily is Hagrid's assistant. Oh well. Definitely read "Ever After: A Cinderella Story" (and see the movie!) by Your Worst Nightmare, and I like Squin's "The Goddess Diaries" a lot as well. But whatever. That's not a disclaimer.

          ANYWAY, only Lily's fan club, the Emma's, and the song belong to me.

          Don't sue… please… I claim no affiliation with J.K. Rowling, Scholastic, Your Worst Nightmare, or anyone else… just with myself, although sometimes I'm not too sure about that either…

          PLEASE review? PLEASE? PLEASE?