Deflating

Chapter Seven: Gingerbread

***

Possibly the Most Glorious Day of My Life to Date

Thursday, 14 December

11:35 a.m.: Subject said my name in her sleep.

She said my name.

She was dreaming about me!

And you know it was good; this is me we're talking about.

So I was waiting for her to wake up, thinking bitterly to myself that this was probably the only time I'd ever see her asleep, and wondering whether or not I should do "Ennervate" on her, just in case she had fallen into a coma.

As I'm debating this, I'm looking at the chalkboard. Suddenly, I hear this fluttery little voice that I have never heard before mutter, "James."

Instinctively, I say, "What?", thinking that Subject had woken up and was wondering what the hell I was doing lording over her.

But when Subject didn't reply, I looked over at her and she was STILL ASLEEP, she hadn't even shifted.

Okay, I couldn't really do a victory dance right then, in case Subject woke up and saw me (that would be horribly embarrassing). I can't dance, so when I try, I like to do it without the stigma of public mockery.

But I'll tell you, I felt very godlike just then.

I kept watching her, begging her to say it again, but she didn't. She just kept sleeping, and sometimes she frowned so that little wrinkles appeared between her eyebrows. Admittedly, this would have been the perfect time to make those classic "She-Looks-Beautifully-Peaceful-While-She's-Sleeping" observations, but I wasn't even concentrating on what she looked like--though I'm sure she was very pretty. I guess.

I decided that she wasn't going to say it again, so I kind of shook her again and said her name right in her ear.

She shot straight up, and looked very puzzled. Then she looked at me, frowned, and snapped, "You're just as bad as he is!"

Now what the hell is this supposed to mean? I'm just as bad as who? And what am I supposedly bad at? Everyone knows I'm not bad at anything…well, except chess, but I don't really think Subject and I were playing chess in that dream, okay?

"What?" I asked her.

She looked embarrassed, so obviously, she wasn't supposed to say that. "Nothing," she said, then looked around and noticed that we were the only two left. Subject then asked me where everyone was.

"Potions, I expect," I said, smiling charmingly. I offered to take her down to the kitchens for a little tea or something, but Subject ignored me and asked how long she had been asleep. I told her (embellishing a little; I said I'd only been trying to wake her for five minutes when really, it was more like fifteen--I didn't want her to think I was a psycho who has a fetish for watching pretty girls sleep), and she nearly fell over, she was so surprised.

Then, I took a gamble and asked her what she was dreaming about.

Subject actually looked kind of mad. Her voice got all cold when she replied, "I don't see where that's any of your business."

I smirked, knowing just how wrong she was. "See, I beg to differ."

Subject looked confused before replying, "Sleep is the only way I can escape you. I think I'm right in saying that what I think about while I'm there is none of your business." She got up to leave, but I certainly stopped her:

"You said my name."

Oh, she stopped all right. She almost tripped over her own feet and kept saying, "No, I didn't, no, I didn't," over and over and over.

Okay, Subject, I already know you were having fantasies about me. There's no use in denying it now, and there's certainly no need to be embarrassed about it. It's perfectly understandable.

I assured her she had, indeed, called out my name, most likely in throes of passion (didn't say that, luckily, she would've boxed me), but she grew rather hysterical, shouting, "I did not entertain your intransigent fantasies by saying your bloody name!"

This would have been a very interesting situation to try to explain to a teacher if they heard Subject screaming at me, but none came to see what the hell was going on.

I crossed the room, thinking that maybe I could pull her into a hug (I didn't try right off, though; just put my hand on her shoulder), and said, "It's okay, I won't tell anyone…just don't start crying," because she really looked like she was going to cry. I cannot stand crying girls, because I never know what to do, and I always end up saying something really stupid and looking like even more of a prick.

So while I'm praying silently for Subject to hold in tears, she was praying the same thing, because she yelled, "I am not crying!" then told me to take my hand off of her shoulder, and left the room.

I did my victory dance then.

If Subject is dreaming about me, it is only a matter of time before the process is complete.

So, to keep with my chess analogy:

Check.

She won't know what hit her.

***

"So, did you and Lily have a little rendezvous in the History of Magic classroom?" Sirius asked when James came, smirking, into the Great Hall for lunch.

"Well," James replied as he slid into a seat next to Peter, "I wasn't a part of it."

The remaining Marauders stared at him in confusion. "What?" Remus finally vocalized.

James leaned forward to whisper confidentially, "She said my name in her sleep." He leaned back and grinned, "I told you staying back was worth it."

"Wh…wh--how did she say it?" Sirius inquired in a hushed voice.

James recalled the story, embellishing a little on his part (according to his version of things, Lily had said his name no less than five times in the span of ten minutes). Just as he was about to tell the end of the story, Lily herself strode into the room, heading straight towards him.

"Don't say anything," he muttered to his friends, who all had very condescending smiles on their faces. They ignored him.

Lily didn't stop to chat, however. She grabbed James's robes and pulled him out of the hall.

Forceful, James thought as she was dragging him up to the Gryffindor Common Room, I hope she knows that that's really--

James didn't get to finish his thought, as Lily had just thrown him down onto one of the couches. She stood in front of him, and her expression was unreadable.

"James," she began, and he was pleased to note that she had called him by his first name again. "You were…you were with me when I was sleeping, right?"

"Yeah," he said curiously, wondering where she was going with this.

"Do you want to know what I was dreaming about?"

Had he not been sitting down, James would have fallen over. This had to be a dream; there was no way Lily Evans was confessing something that would make him very happy.

Well…he was right in one.

"Sure," he told her, trying to be casual about it.

Lily gave a very heavy sigh and dropped onto the couch next to him. "Do you remember that day…outside, by the lake, when you hung Severus Snape upside down in the air?"

James smirked. "Yes."

"And I stopped all your fun?" she spat the word "fun" out in extreme distaste.

Smirk disappeared. "Yes."

"I was dreaming about that day," Lily said.

James met her eyes in confusion. "What?"

She nodded. "I was dreaming about that day. I've been having that dream for days now, and I don't know what it means."

"It doesn't mean anything," James said sullenly, thoroughly disappointed that that was all Lily had been dreaming about.

"Of course it does," Lily said, straightening. "It has to mean something. Recurring dreams have to have some significance, and this one actually happened. It means something. I just don't know what it is."

"Well, good luck with that, then," James told her. "I personally think you're reading into it too much and that you should just ignore it, but if you want to go all analytical, go on ahead."

She sighed. "I plan to 'go all analytical.' I'll think about it over Christmas and get back to you." She smiled, stood up, and went up to her room.

I'll think about it over Christmas and get back to you.

***

Indeed, Lily did think about it over Christmas.

In fact, it was all she thought about over Christmas.

She had a drawer full of scribbled theories, all as unlikely as the next. It was very frustrating work, trying to determine why this memory was haunting her. Each time she would abandon the search, she would have the dream again.

Finally, on the last day before she had to go back to school, Lily decided that she might as well ask her mother. While Mrs. Evans wasn't a witch, she was a very good listener. At the very least, Lily had to get this out into the open. She just had to.

Mrs. Evans was going grocery shopping this particular morning, so Lily volunteered to go with her. Lily hadn't accompanied her mother on a shopping trip of any sort since last year, so it felt nice to do it again.

Lily brought up the dream when her mother was selecting apples. "Mum, I've been having a dream lately," she said cautiously, wondering whether or not this was a smart idea.

"Oh?" Mrs. Evans said politely as she twirled the plastic produce bag in her hands to close the mouth of it tightly.

"Mmm-hmm," Lily muttered, "but it's not really a dream, per se. It actually happened."

Mrs. Evans turned to her daughter, looking anxious. "Lily, dear, did you have a premonition?"

Lily laughed. "No, no, no, nothing of the sort. No, this event happened in fifth year, and for some reason, I've just been dreaming it lately. A lot."

Mrs. Evans looked relieved that her daughter was not suddenly psychic. "Oh," she said, laughing a bit. "What is this memory, then?"

Lily recounted the story as they traveled down aisles, picking up loaves of bread, cases of sodas, bags of flour and sugar, and bottles of water as she did. By the time they reached the freezers with meat in them, she was finishing up.

"So…what do you make of it?" Lily asked anxiously. "James says that I'm reading to far into it. Am I?"

"I think the answer is right in front of you," Mrs. Evans said, smiling. "Is James that darling boy I met at the train station?"

Lily scowled. "Yes, but he's not darling and I don't see what that has to do with--"

"It has everything to do with it, Lily," Mrs. Evans told her daughter gently as she lifted a steak out of the freezer and placed it in her cart. "You're just refusing to see it."

"See what?" Lily instantly demanded. "See what, Mum?"

"I won't say," Mrs. Evans said, smiling. She was clearly enjoying knowing something her daughter didn't. "It'll be more rewarding for you if you figure it out on your own. And you will." She pushed her cart further along the freezers. "But I liked him," she added thoughtfully.

"What are you on about?" Lily asked incredulously as she followed her mother diligently down the row of freezers.

"I told you, I can't say," Mrs. Evans said, smiling still.

"Well," Lily huffed, "I'm glad you're enjoying this, Mother, but it's extremely frustrating!"

***

Sunday, 4 January

21 Days Since I Last Saw Subject

12:35 p.m.: I am going back to school tomorrow, where Subject will hopefully have some more intriguing information as to why she's been dreaming about that day when she exercised her power as a killjoy. I still believe Subject is reading into this far more than it is deserved.

I got her something. For Christmas, I mean. I didn't send it to her because I don't know how open-minded her parents are as far as owls, them being Muggles and all. I got her romance novels. Five of them. I'll give them to her once I see her tomorrow.

I have read them, too, and see nothing funny about them. Oh, well. Maybe I just didn't get the right kind.

Padfoot looked at me very strangely when he saw me reading them. I told him that Subject reads them, and I wanted to see what the big deal was all about, but I don't think he believed me. He grew even more suspicious when I didn't send them to her at Christmas. I think he really believes that I'm keeping them for my own personal enjoyment.

As for a course of action where Subject is concerned once we get back…well, she's already dreaming about me (so what if she's harping on the prick I was in fifth year? She's got to see that I'm really getting better about that). I really see no more that I can do. I just have to…let it flow naturally. And if that doesn't work, I might just pin her in the Common Room and kiss her. I'm really getting that frustrated…

***

James boarded the Hogwarts Express the next day, Sirius at his side, clutching Lily's gift in his left hand. He hadn't seen her outside, and Sirius was getting whiny and impatient, so he decided to wait for her on the train.

He was careful to look into compartments for her as they went along, searching for Remus and Peter, but he didn't see her before Sirius found their friends.

"Have a good holiday?" Peter asked politely.

"It was fine," James replied restlessly. "Seen Lily?"

Remus smirked. "My, you have a one track mind, don't you?"

"Sure," James responded. "Have you seen her?"

Peter shook his head. "We came straight here."

James sighed. "I'll look for her when the train starts moving," he promised himself under his breath.

As if on cue, the train shook for a moment, then started chugging along the tracks. James grinned at his friends. "I'll be back," he said, practically leaping from his seat.

He walked quickly down the hall, glancing in compartments, looking for Lily. He finally found her in the third to last compartment, sitting with four other girls, who stopped talking immediately when he opened the door.

"Hi, Lily," he said, smiling at her.

"James," she replied coolly.

Good, she used my first name…we're off to a good start…

"Um," James began brilliantly, "um, can I talk to you?"

"You are talking," Lily pointed out.

There she goes again.

"Yeah, well, can I talk to you without four other people watching me?"

Lily smiled. "Close your eyes, girls."

They giggled.

Damn her.

"Lily," James said exasperatedly.

"All right," she smiled, standing up. "Don't get your knickers in a twist, there, James."

He stood aside so she could exit fully, and closed the door behind her. "I got you something," he said abruptly, thrusting the wrapped package towards her. "For Christmas…I didn't send it to you at Christmas, because I didn't know how your family would react to owls…"

Lily was unwrapping the present, but glanced up at him, humor flashing in her eyes. "They have seen an owl before," she told him. "I don't think they would have minded." She went back to tearing the remaining paper off of the books, and stared at them once she was done.

For a moment, James was terrified that he had made a huge mistake, but to his surprise, she grinned. "Romance novels," she said, meeting his eyes.

"Y-yeah, I've seen you reading them, so I--I figured…" he trailed off.

"That's thoughtful," she told him. "Thanks. If you'd've told me you were planning on giving me a present, I'd've gotten you one."

"I'd settle for a kiss," James blurted before he could stop himself.

Lily snorted. "If you think I'd kiss you just because you gave me some books, you don't know me at all."

Potter, you are an asshole.

He blushed, and mumbled, "Yeah, I didn't think you actually would." Then he remembered something. "Hey, how have your dreams been going?"

She looked surprised for a moment, then confused, then recognition dawned upon her face. "Oh!" she said, laughing a little. "Oh, that. Well, thanks for being concerned, James, but I think I've got it under control."

"So you know--?"

"No," Lily responded quickly. "No, I--I haven't quite figured that out yet. But I will." She flashed a quick smile and added, "Anything else?"

James shook his head, wondering if she was telling the truth. "No," he said. "Nothing."