Chapter 12 ~ How Bizzare

Lily held a righteous resignation not to talk to James, let alone look him in the face.  However, she felt so guilty about her temper tantrum that she often looked at him out of the corner of her eye, more than once finding him looking at her sadly.  To anyone who questioned their fight, Lily stood firm in saying that James was overreacting.  Laura's debacle with the owl and Lily's quick temper only made her feel less welcome in the Gryffindor circle, and so she hung out more and more with Robyn and her friends from Ravenclaw.

Robyn turned out to be very nice, and very talkative. Lily was invited into the Ravenclaw common room right away. Though Lily had insisted that common rooms were meant only for people in their houses, Robyn said it didn't matter. Surprisingly, it hadn't. The Ravenclaws had welcomed her when Lily had come in. She guessed it was because they didn't get out a lot, and were happy to meet someone else, and while Lily told herself that it was good to get out and socialize, especially with the daughter of her host family, she knew deep down that she was just avoiding her friends, and more importantly, James.

But, talking with the Ravenclaws gave Lily a new perspective on all the Houses, not just the Ravenclaws. Gryffindors had always thought that Ravenclaws were a bunch of stuck-up snobs who always kept their head buried in the books, never having a bit of fun. In turn, a seventh-year named Robert admitted he always thought of Gryffindors as "the people who were to bull-headed to listen to advice and charged into things without thinking."

Lily realized that every house was a bit full of themselves, holding their own in the highest regard, and generally bad-mouthing the others. Lily began to realize the other Houses really weren't as bad as they seemed… except maybe the Slytherins, she really couldn't find anything good to say about that lot.

Robert's perception seemed to be a staple character in the Ravenclaws. They weren't outgoing, but that didn't reflect their ability to make friends. Lily had known Robyn for only three weeks and since then had become good friends with all the Ravenclaw sixth and seventh years. Besides Robyn, Lily's good friends included Robert, with whom she loved to sit and talk to because he listened well; Sheila, a seventh-year who was uncharacteristically cheery was a great friend too, and Sofia, the exact opposite, was a quiet, meek girl, who usually was reading a book. There was also Brett, an extremely good-looking and athletic sixth year; and John, the best student in every subject besides Charms and Transfiguration—Lily and James' fortes.

She seemed to get along better with the Ravenclaw boys, she didn't feel she had to compete with them, as she often did with the girls.  Sheila, without noticing it, would often one-up Lily in a conversation, stopping Lily's point dead in her tracks.  Plus, Lily felt relieved to have a purely platonic relationship with some guys.  She wasn't the prettiest girl in school (that one went to Laura, by far) but she had her own certain attractiveness.  Petite frame, large green eyes, and what she considered a good figure. It was comforting not to have to find excuses to get away from guys, and she liked that.

So as not to promote any rumors about her loyalty to her house, Lily decided to study in her own common room for the first time in close to a month. She missed the Ravenclaws, she was having trouble with DADA and she knew that if John was there he would help her in a minute. For some reason, the professor wanted the homework handed in by dinnertime tomorrow, despite the fact that today was Friday. 

Lily scanned the room; Remus was studying too, and was rather good at DADA. But he wouldn't want to help me, Lily lied to herself. She was contradicted immediately by her conscience, Of course he would, you're just avoiding him. You know it. She stood up, not wanting to debate any further. John would help, she'd go get John.

Suddenly, Apollo zoomed down from the ceiling, screeching. People looked up, shocked. Apollo took the room in a circle, almost herding everyone out the door. Remus was startled, and the three lowerclassmen quickly departed to their rooms. "APOLLO!!!" Lily screamed, desperate to return him to the Owlery. Apollo shuddered midair, thankfully slowing himself down. He landed on Lily's outstretched calmly and peacefully and nipped her affectionately. She walked outside the common room to get away from the panicking little kids. Stopping outside the portrait hole she inspected her hand. It was throbbing and bleeding pretty badly, Apollo had dug his claws in. Trained owls weren't supposed to do that.

"Looks like you'll need to take another trip to Madam Lorquette." Lily looked up, already knowing who had said it. Who else but James Potter could hit on such a sore spot. Yet one would think he lad learned his lesson from the calamity he had produced last time. "And maybe bring that owl down to the gamekeeper, Hagrid."

"Apollo doesn't need to see anyone about anything," she said defiantly, partially to defend her owl, partially just to be contrary to James.

"Don't say what he did wasn't weird just then," James said disbelievingly.

"He was obviously scared," she defended.

"Well then we should go see Hagrid about it to see if Apollo is okay. Hagrid could fix him." Lily considered this for a moment, then asked, "I heard he had gotten expelled from Hogwarts."

"Sure, that doesn't mean he doesn't know what he's doing," he stated airily.

"How would you know?" That startled him, he glanced around quickly.

"Well, you see, I've, uh…observed him in the forest quite a few times. He's competent with every type of animal—and you'd be surprised with what roams the Forbidden Forest." Satisfied that he had answered and not revealed anything important, he stopped.

Ignoring James' implications Lily asked, "Well, where does he stay?"

"On a little shack near the Quidditch fields." Seeing that his explanation hadn't helped her at all he made another offer, "I can take you, if you like." She was about to refuse, but found she didn't want to. Having a guide would make it so much easier, even if it was James, and it would be dark soon, she told herself.

With an exaggerated sweep of her hands and a boatful of sarcasm she replied, "Lead the way." James took off down the corridor and Lily followed somewhat dubiously. Once they had made it outside the grounds Apollo had calmed down, but Lily's hand hurt terribly.

"James," she said, "maybe we should just go back to Madam Lorquette, Apollo is fine but I'm not. I think I need the nurse." James took her hand, studying it in the dim glow of the dusk surrounding the grounds.

"Hagrid should be able to fix it. He can check Apollo, too. Come on, we'll be there in five minutes." James quickened his pace. Across the ground the setting sun broke through the trees most splendidly. She loved this time of year, when it seemed just on the brink of springtime.  'April means spring,' her mother had always said.  They would plant flowers together, and then watch as a garden bed full of lilies and petunias blossomed beautifully. 

Lily had to remind herself to keep walking. When she tore herself away from her memory she noticed Hagrid emerging from his shack, and gasped. She hadn't ever really seen him, and she wondered how it was possible that she ever missed him. He was huge! Never had that shack seemed so small. Intimidation crept up on her, though she knew it shouldn't have. James quickened pace even more anticipating meeting his friend, while Lily slowed to a stroll.

"Oi! Hagrid!" James called to him. Hagrid smiled cheekily and grinned, suddenly Lily wasn't so nervous and jogged to catch up.

"'Ello, James. What can I do fer yeh? Need some 'elp wit' somethin'? Or are yeh jus comin' fer a visit?" When he noticed Lily he added, "An' whose yer pal, there?" Hagrid ushered them inside his hut as James answered.

"She's actually the reason why we came. Could you take a look at her owl, and her hand after that?"

"O' course. Lemme jus take a peep at her hand firs', then we'll take a look a' th'owl." His large hands, so callused and oversized, were gentle. She could see with the tender eyes he regarded her cut with that he was treating her like one of his animal friends. He fixed her efficiently, and Lily was glad she hadn't been driven to put up with the nonsense of Madam Lorquette.

As soon as he finished with her Apollo flew from his perch and onto one of Hagrid's large hands. Hagrid inspected it keenly and Apollo stared back, though quite nonchalantly. He cooed a little, threw him up in the air, and checked Apollo's bone structure or something of the like. He stopped, and looked to Lily and James. "I'd like to take 'im out fer a bit. You can stay in 'ere, I'll be right back." He walked outside, leaving James and Lily silent in his hut.

"Well," James started.

"Yeah," Lily said, trying to fill in the silence.  It was becoming harder to stay mad at him.  But he was the one who walked away from you, she thought, sighing.  But who was the one who drove him away....  She shook the thought from her mind, then realized that James was actually talking.

"So… what do you think of Hagrid?"

"He's certainly much gentler than I had expected. Not brusque at all." James' eyebrows raised slightly, then Hagrid returned. When he walked in the door Apollo wasn't with him. Seeing a note of concern Hagrid said, "I sen' yer Apollo off to the Owlery, he should be able to find it by 'imself. Other than tha', I can't find nothin' wrong wit' 'im. Seems jus' fine te me. The only reason I can think of is tha' somethin' scared 'im. An' pretty badly too." James looked slightly put out, while Lily was quite happy. Happy that she was right, not that her owl had been scared. Excitedly she jumped up and thanked him. James lagged behind, stopping to say something to Hagrid. Nodding, James' large friend sent him on his way.

As they walked back Lily exclaimed triumphantly, "I knew nothing was wrong. And if anyone could tell it would be Hagrid." James mumbled something, and when Lily questioned him as to what he replied without thinking. "I still think you should get rid of that crazy owl." He realized right after he said that how sentimental she still was about her owl. He apologized, "Oh, sorry Lily." James continued to flounder for an appropriate reconciliation looking very comical.

Lily grinned, "It's okay, James. I just hope you will realize that Apollo is just a good owl. Everybody and everything has their quirks." She paused, then grinned again. "You should know, you have more than you're fair share."

"Hey, I resent that, you know," James replied, indignant.

"And I resent that you can't like my owl, but I'm letting it go." James feigned shock.

"Letting it go! Well, well, well, I'm very impressed. Certainly seemed to get a hand on that abominable temper of yours, haven't you?"

"I've never had an abominable temper," Lily said quickly and decisively, daring him with her eyes to argue. James, however, not one to caught up in the spell of her magnificent eyes, accepted. "Maybe from your point of view, but let me tell you, being on the receiving end of your temper is no picnic!" He laughed, and Lily tried to laugh too.

"I guess you're right," she said weakly, then tried to laugh again. She wasn't happy though, it hurt, it hurt to have her faults thrown so blatantly in her face—especially by one of her good friends (for she had already determined that James was, in fact, her good friend again). Sure, she had been mad at him for close to a month, a month that she had barely even spoken to him, but that didn't mean she hadn't lost respect for him.

She remained pleasant until she got back to her dorm, then collapsed onto her bed. She deserved a comment like that, after she deserted her friends for nearly a month. It was almost the end of March, where had the year gone? Her new resolution was to spend more time with the Gryffindors, her roommates, the Marauders—everyone that she used to think mattered most. Well, don't they still matter the most? she asked herself. She didn't know. Her mind tossed and turned as much as she did in her bed that night. Filled with nightmares, nightmares of spending her life alone, dying in a small corner and having nobody notice, or even care. Subconsciously, she promised herself never, ever to let that happen.

When she woke up the next morning, true, she was tired, and with a sigh remembered she forgot to finish her DADA homework. The Professor wasn't going to be happy…

Although, maybe she could ask Remus! That would be a good follow-up to her resolution. She dressed happily and went down to the Great Hall for breakfast. There was hardly anybody there. What was going on? There were absolutely no Gryffindors at their table, no Ravenclaws or Hufflepuffs either. Only a few slimy Slytherins over at their table, sniggering loudly. She supposed she would have to ask them where everybody was.

She walked over, Snape was sitting at the end of the table, some perverse seat of honor, she supposed. Well, the slimiest rule supreme…

"Excuse me Severus," she said with a smile. "Um, do you know where everyone is?" He looked thoroughly amused by this.

"Forgot about your boyfriend's game? Well, that's not very nice, now is it." The Slytherins sniggered again, God, were they annoying.

"Come off it, Snape. Just tell me, where is everyone?"

"Why, down at the Quidditch pitch, watching your hubby get pummeled by those Huffle-duffers." The Slytherins sniggered again at this comment. Honestly, the brain capacity of some people rivaled a guinea pig's.  The people sitting around her, however, weren't even close.

She was well on her way to mentally trouncing Snape when she realized what he had meant. James was playing Hufflepuff, and it probably wasn't going to well. She got down to the Quidditch pitch in time to hear the announcer's voice say, "And, yet another point by the Hufflepuff chasers, Reilly, Abbott, and Smith, what a trio. They really are doing great out there today. Score: Gryffindor—50, Hufflepuff—120." She winced, they really were doing horribly. She stared at the stands, there were no seats left, and she wasn't going to stand around forever.

She finally spied one, off in the back. A horrible seat, but a seat nonetheless. When she got there she realized who was next to her, Professor Trelawney. Lily didn't know she even ventured out of her classroom, she had been beginning to think those vile fumes were necessary to her health. But here she was, watching the Quidditch game. As Lily sat down the Professor said ominously. "They will lose, it is fated. Jupiter shall strike Gryffindor where it most hurts, this is just the start." She kept repeating such nonsense over and over as Hufflepuff continued to rack up points. It ended in a score of 110—290, and James walked sulkily off the field.

Trelawney looked to the sky. "Jupiter shall have revenge, whether it be through stealth or cunning, it shall have its revenge. You are a target, my dear. Fear those not familiar with you, trust no one. Jupiter will strike at the heart of Gryffindor. Many deaths are sure to follow." She stood up and walked silkily away.

Lily stared after her in shock. She's nutters, positively nutters…

* * *

James lay on his bed, dejected. "It's just not fair!!"

Sirius rolled over from his position on his bed. "You're right, Prongs. I say the legal magic age should be lowered too, but don't talk to me, talk to Fludge." James got up and hit Sirius upside the head.

"No, you twit! The game, the game was unfair!"

"Oh, stuff it, James. They beat us fair and square. You're just mad because you completely underestimated them. You thought with the Ravenclaw win and how we slipped by Slytherin, we would beat Hufflepuff and take the Cup easy as pie." Well, there really was no arguing that. But, James had taken the initiative to look in on some Hufflepuff practices, under concealment of his cloak, of course, and they really never were this good. And he wasn't joking, they really had stunk. But, on game day they played superbly. There was no accounting for it. "Oh, don't let your beaten pride get the better of you, James. There is always next year."

James returned to his bed. "Right," he said gloomily. "Next year."

* * *

Thomas Reilly stood deep in the Forbidden Forest with only his wand and a small envelope. He wasn't there for Detention, he was a model student, and sixth-year prefect. He had just helped carry Hufflepuff to the Quidditch Cup for the first time in a long, long time.

He really didn't understand why the Professor had insisted that they meet here either. Professor Malchite had asked for a very specific list of ingredients, but hadn't said why he needed them. Or, maybe he had, and Thomas just couldn't remember…

Well, for whatever purpose, Thomas was standing deep within the Forest, not a safe place to be in the dark of night, and was missing out on a spectacular party the Hufflepuff House was throwing. A thought struck him, Wouldn't the Professor have to be at Hufflepuff to supervise the party? He was head of Hufflepuff House, after all.

A breeze blew quickly by and he shivered. Looking skyward he saw a few particularly bright stars that twinkled profusely. I wonder, he thought, what if—

"Thomas." The Professor's voice greeted him.

"Hey, umm, I mean, good morning, no, uh, good evening Professor." He was unstable, there was no etiquette concerning what to do when your teacher asked you to meet him at midnight on forbidden grounds. Could he really be blamed for being nervous? The Professor at least found his antics halfway amusing.

"I am so glad you could make it, Thomas." He smiled, but then looked as if he had trouble putting the muscles back into a frown. "Glad you realized you could never miss a meeting with me." Professor Malchite had very gray eyes, Thomas decided, piercing gray eyes. Though, now they looked sort of hazel, then a dark blue that seemed to lighten with every passing second. He didn't realize he was blatantly staring. "BOY!!! What is the matter?!?" Thomas rubbed his eyes for a few moments, and looked at the Professor's eyes again. They were a normal gray, nothing special. "Do you have what I need?"

"Yeah, sure. I don't understand how it's for the good of Hufflepuff though. And considering you are a teacher, it should have been much easier for you to get them then me." Professor Malchite almost chuckled at his ramblings.

"Ah, no. When your hard work at completing these tasks pays off, you will receive the glory." Thomas was still unsure, the circumstances were just so…odd.

"Are you sure?" Professor Malchite could tell he was losing him.

"Of course, boy. And don't you like the feel of glory. All those people cheering for you today, congratulating you because you led Hufflepuff to glory. Does Hufflepuff get glory often enough? Aren't the Ravenclaws stealing it with their brains, the Gryffindors with their bravery, and the Slytherins with their cunning?" Thomas was getting into it now.

"Yes, yes they do. They steal our glory. We deserve some. Thank you Professor, thank you very much. I'll do my best, I'll make Hufflepuff proud." He turned to walk away, but turned back, bashful. He handed a little packet into the Professors already outstretched hand. He tucked it into an empty bottle and pocketed it. Thomas turned to leave once more.

"Oh, and Reilly." The boy turned around again. "Not a word." Thomas swallowed and smiled rigidly.

"Yes, yes of course Professor, sir. Of course." He saluted then looked at his hand oddly, wondering why on earth he had even had the impulse to do it. He stumbled backwards for a bit then turned to a walking jog to exit the forest. His Professor watched him leave.

Poor boy, Malchite thought. He'll never know what hit him.