Deflating

Chapter Six: While You Were Sleeping

***

Wednesday, 13 December

Approximately 11:30 a.m.: Am wondering whether or not I should go home for Christmas. Mum and Dad have said that I am allowed to invite some friends over for the holidays if I like, but I am thinking that Christmas would be prime time to close the deal with Subject.

Okay, Padfoot has just read over my shoulder and is laughing like an idiot. He is wondering why I do not write Subject's name down ("It's only four letters, Prongs, it's not that hard. Do you need me to spell it out for you?"), which I guess is an issue that I've never addressed. I don't write down her name because I don't want her to be able to tell it's her I've been writing about should I be careless and leave this lying around the Common Room and she reads it or something.

Padfoot is laughing again and says that that is the stupidest thing he has ever heard.

Padfoot wishes to add his comments:

Prongs, I am thinking that you should go home for Christmas.

What prompts this rare show of thought?

I have my reasons, and I assure you, they are all brilliant and important.

Oh, I forgot: my mother promised you gingerbread scones every morning, didn't she?

Dammit, Prongs, they just don't make gingerbread scones here like your mother does!

But I agree that you might have reasons to stay…we could do some real damage with some mistletoe…

Moony also wishes to add his comments: I don't know what kind of fun you two are planning on having with mistletoe, but you'll be doing it alone.

What makes you say that, O Spoilsport?

What makes you think I'd ever come near Prongs when he's wielding mistletoe at me?

Lily's going home for Christmas.

***

James was very positive that Lily was doing this on purpose.

"It makes sense!" he exclaimed much later that night, when he and his three friends were preparing to go to bed. "I mean, she knows what I'm doing--to some extent--and she's obviously not pleased about it, so she'll do anything to stop herself from falling in love with me. If she stayed here for Christmas, and I did too, well, she wouldn't be able to help herself, would she? So she's saving herself the pain and thrill of being in love with me."

Sirius threw a shoe at his best friend, who deftly dodged it.

"Yeah, that was pricky, wasn't it?" James said darkly.

Sirius nodded, loosening his tie. "Careful not to say anything else, Prongs, or I just might throttle you with this," he added, waving the gallantly striped tie in the air before throwing it on the floor.

"But doesn't my theory make sense?" James asked eagerly.

"Well, apart from all that stuff about Lily not liking what you're trying to do, no," Remus said.

James, looking puzzled, said, "I don't follow you."

Remus pitched himself onto his bed, sighing and rubbing his temples. "Prongs," he began tiredly, "how many times do I have to explain this to you?"

"As many times as it takes for me to get it," James responded, seating himself on the foot of his own bed and watching Remus expectantly.

"Lily is a girl. A living, breathing girl. She's not like you and me and Padfoot and Wormtail here. So, while Padfoot might be flattered by someone constantly following him around and flirting with him constantly--"

"Well, that depends. Is this someone attractive?" Sirius interjected, fixing his attention on Remus interestedly.

"This someone doesn't exist," Remus snapped. "We're trying to focus on Prongs's predicament, aren't we?"

"Sure," Sirius replied. "But I can get something out of this, too, can't I?"

"Shut up, Padfoot," Remus said wearily. "I'm trying to explain this to James."

"Yeah, Padfoot," James said, shooting Sirius a stony look. "Stop throwing off his concentration."

Muttering derisively about 'uncaring friends' and 'bloody unfocused gits', Sirius stepped into bed and pulled the covers over his head, still listening intently.

"You were saying, Moony?" James said, once Sirius's half-hearted rants had subsided.

"While Padfoot might be flattered by someone paying consistent attention to him, or you might like a girl a considerable amount more if she was attractive, Lily might not be interested in all those things. She might be interested in other things about a person, like what…what…" Remus struggled for words.

James, who was listening to his friend in rapt attention, said eagerly, "Yes?"

"Like…what kind of books you like to read," Remus offered finally.

"Books….Hold on, let me get the book!" James exclaimed, leaning over the length of his bed to fumble in his bag for the book, which was rarely seen out of his hands lately.

Once James had retrieved it, had it balanced carefully on one of his pillows, and had a quill and ink at the ready, Remus continued, "Or…or…." His voice faltered, and he shrugged. "See, James, this is exactly what I'm talking about! Do you want to know why the advice that Sirius, Peter, and I gave you didn't work?"

"Because he did it wrong?" Sirius suggested bitterly from under his blanket.

"Because there is no set way to win Lily over," Remus told James, ignoring their other friend. "There is no surefire method to get anything you really want. You have to…" Remus struggled for words again. "You have to make it yourself."

***

Thursday, 14 December

Approximately 7:30 a.m.: "There is no set way to win [Subject] over. You have to make it yourself." Why, thanks, Moony, for that load of psychological drivel that MEANS NOTHING TO ME.

What was I supposed to do with that remark, hmm? Was it supposed to become CRYSTAL CLEAR to me what I was supposed to do to get Subject to like me?? Because, surprise, surprise, it DIDN'T.

Why can't she just allow me a snog and get it over with? I'd be happy with just a snog. Really, I would. The shagging? Completely negotiable now. I don't even care anymore. I'm tired of doing this and being shot down.

But it'll drive me bloody insane if I don't at least get a SNOG! A snog off of Subject would cement my status as a god once and for all. Really, it would.

Yeah, there are at least fifty pricky things in that paragraph, but again: I don't even care.

Actually, I think I care too much.

I need to stop thinking about this, or I will go insane.

Did I develop multiple personalities overnight?

***

Lily glanced over at James, hunched over and scribbling furiously in book she saw him carrying around all the time. Did he keep a journal?

Lily smirked. She couldn't see James Potter writing down his deepest thoughts and dreams in a diary. Lily herself couldn't keep a journal to save her life (she always got extremely bored with her own life after a few days; she always felt that to deserve a journal, you had to be an interesting person to whom interesting things happened), so maybe James keeping one was admirable.

They were in History of Magic, and, as usual, no one was paying attention. Lily had stopped trying to copy down every little word Binns said about three years ago, and Binns didn't seem to notice either way.

She watched James with renewed interest. That book was really irking her now; she was itching to Summon it over to her and read it. But that would be wrong, she reminded herself.

He was screwing up his face now, he seemed anxious or angry about something. James's hand tightened around the quill he was holding as he scribbled.

Lily rested her head on one of her propped hands, watching him still. Her eyes were sliding in and out of focus…James had finished writing and was reading over what he'd written, quill in his mouth, body tense…she really had to finish "The Beauty and the Baby," Charlotte wanted to borrow it…James had just bitten the end off of his quill and was now spitting feathers onto his desk….

"Leave him alone!" she was shrieking, and that bubbling feeling of anger was back, alive and kicking. It was this anger, she believed, that drew out her wand and pointed it threateningly at James. Her hand was shaking, but he didn't seem to notice.

"Ah, Evans, don't make me hex you," James said, almost whining, like he really didn't want to hex her, but he would if she made him. Lily wondered briefly what she could do that would send him over the edge like that. Not today, though, she told herself fiercely. No, don't test him now…

"Take the curse off him, then!" she yelled, motioning to Severus Snape, who was lying on the ground in a pile of robes. James's eyes flickered over to Snape, as though just remembering that he was there.

James met her eyes, and she stubbornly refused to break his gaze. James sighed, ran his hand through his hair quickly, and turned to Snape again. Lily was a little afraid that he was going to curse him again, but much to her surprise, he took the curse off.

"There you go," he snapped icily as Snape stood up on shaky, wobbly legs, "you're lucky Evans was here, Snivellus--"

"I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her," Snape spat.

While Lily hadn't exactly been expecting a groveling thanks from the boy she had only seen in passing, she certainly hadn't anticipated his hostile reaction. James apparently hadn't either: his eyes widened and color rose to his face as he scrunched up his nose in hate--no, no, even James Potter couldn't hate--dislike.

"Apologize to Evans!" James bellowed, extending his wand at Snape again, his hazel eyes blazing behind his glasses.

This just made Lily even more upset. She didn't need James Potter to come to her rescue; she wasn't some simpering damsel in distress, and him trying to treat her like one did not make her appreciate him any more.

"I don't want you to make him apologize!" she yelled angrily, turning to face him again and meeting his surprised eyes. He opened his mouth to say something back, but she beat him to it. "You're just as bad as he is!"

"Lily?"

Lily shot up in her seat, confused. James Potter was standing over her, looking--concerned? Surprised? What was that expression?--at her. The room was empty. They were the only two left.

At seeing James's face, she was reminded of the contempt she had felt for him that day, and the first thing that shot out of her mouth was, "You're just as bad as he is!"

Now James looked confused. "What?" he asked, startled, as his eyebrows knitted together.

Lily flushed, embarrassed. She didn't usually say things without thinking to avoid situations like this. "No-nothing," she stammered. "Where is everyone?"

James glanced down at his watch. "Potions, I expect," he said, smiling.

Lily was horrified. "What?" she breathed.

"You fell asleep," James said, and his tone was almost…fatherly? Ew, no. "It happens. Especially in this class. Want to go get some tea or something from the kitchens? I don't feel like going to Potions."

"How long have I been asleep like this?" she asked in a hushed voice.

"Well, I've been trying to wake you up for five minutes now." He flushed a little. "What were you dreaming about?" he asked curiously.

Lily scowled. "I don't see where that's any of your business."

James smirked. "See, I beg to differ."

"Sleep is the only way I can escape you. I think I'm right in saying what I'm thinking about while I'm there is none of your business," Lily snapped, standing up.

She strode to the door, prepared to leave and go to Potions, prepared to apologize for her lateness and accept the repercussions, when James said softly from where he was still standing, "Lily, you said my name."

Lily froze as she felt the color drain rapidly from her face. "No, I didn't," she said, so quietly she wasn't sure if he'd heard her.

He had. "Oh, I assure you, you did. You don't have to worry, though. I was the only one here."

"I didn't say your name!" Lily repeated, her voice elevating.

"You did," James corrected her.

"No, James Potter!" she said, and she was so furious she couldn't see. She didn't know why she'd said his full name--maybe she couldn't decide which name she wanted to use. "No, I will not entertain your intransigent fantasies by saying your bloody name!"

James looked alarmed. "Okay, Lily, calm down," he said quietly, going over to her and putting a hand on her shoulder. "I…I won't tell anyone. Just…don't start crying."

"I'm not going to cry!" she yelled at him, but there were already tears welling in her eyes. Why am I being so stupid? It must be all those romance novels. "Get your hand off me!" she added, shoving his hand away.

She stormed out of the room, in very romance-novel behavior.

***

A/N: Oh, I promise you: you will get a very victorious James-journal entry next chapter. He wouldn't disappoint you like that; I promise ;)

Kudos to Fashion diva (sorry, my spellchecker automatically separates your name) who guessed the reason why James refuses to write Lily's name in his Stalker Journal. I just said it was a reason. I didn't say it was a good reason. ;)

And you guys are making suggestions!! That makes me so happy, because that means you care. I love suggestions; and I like to use them--you guys have much better ideas than I do--so don't feel hesitant to tell me what you think should happen.

For HoL: I already had something like that in mind; we think a lot alike. I'll drive up to Canada and take grief counseling with you!!

Excalibur: I loved that!! Will definitely use it. Definitely.

Dude, I'm on 97 favorites' lists, 12 of which came from this story. ::shakes head:: You guys are delusional, but I love you anyway.