To Err is Human; To Forgive, Devine
Lily Evans sat in the Gryffindor common room, ankles crossed, back straight, and reading a book. A sour, or dark, look could be found on her usually smiling face. Anyone who knew her well, also knew when she sat in this prim and proper way, it was a clear indication of her annoyance and anger. No one dared to approach her.
One thing that Lily did that did not make her appear "prim and proper" was the fact that she was sucking on a butterscotch candy. When it finally got thin enough she would chew it--and then it was gone. As it was swallowed, her face relaxed. Her anger stayed, but she had grown remarkably calmer in her anger. It was safe to approach her and talk to her--unless, of course, you were the reason for her anger. Then you would want to wait a few hours for her to calm down enough that her posture relaxed--or she approached you.
For, Lily Evans had a redheaded temper: easy to flare and absolutely horrible to be the object of it--mainly due to her ability with insults and excellence in Charms. Although it was rare, the occasions would arise in which to be on the wrong end of her temper, also meant you were on the wrong end of her wand--and that was a place few could handle to be.
She sat, quite undisturbed, for five minutes. Then the common room became unnaturally quiet as a boy stumbled in the portrait hole and headed straight for Lily. Everyone watched with interest.
"Evans?" he asked hesitantly.
No answer.
He sighed and sank down to the floor.
"Lily?" he asked again.
Still no answer.
He decided to get it out before he lost his nerve and said clearly, "I'm sorry."
Her eyes stopped scanning the page. Only my friends know that it's safe and highly appreciated when someone apologies before my anger's run its course, she thought. And this little nugget of knowledge would explain to the wondering other Gryffindors why Lily never appeared to get angry at her friends--they never let her get that far in her anger ritual. The boy at her feet was not her friend. They were acquaintances--same year, same house, same duties. Certainly, Lily and the boy got along-- well, most of the time they did--but he would not have known such a character trait about her.
After the initial shock wore off, she realized he was waiting for some response--and being rather curious as to his reason, Lily's green eyes moved from her book to the boy's face. The people watching them did not see this subtle change, for her head remained fixed in the direction of her book. He seemed to consider this as a sufficient response. After all, he now knew she was paying attention to him.
"I didn't know that what I said would get you so upset. I certainly didn't mean for it to have that effect--I was being a prat. Can you forgive me?"
Lily did something wholly unusual--she snapped her book shut with a resounding "thwump." Everyone in the room, besides herself and the boy, jumped at the sound. No one was sure whether this was a way to get everyone's attention or a signal to stop listening to the pair. Since they were not sure, they continued to listen--expecting Lily's temper to kick in.
"Why are you apologizing, James Potter?" she asked in a calm voice.
He looked at her for a moment, deep in thought--almost as if he were choosing his words very carefully.
"Because I don't want you to hate me."
"I didn't hate you--I was angry with you."
James' eyes lit up. "Was? You mean I'm forgiven?"
"Only if you can get yourself out of this scrape." When she saw his confused look she continued, "Why don't you want me to hate you?"
James suddenly looked uncomfortable. At long last he muttered, "Because."
Lily sighed; she could tell that this would take awhile to get the story out of him--that is, if there was anything to be told. "Because?" she repeated.
James nodded slightly and said, "Because I want something different."
Lily looked at him for a moment. Then, deciding he probably was not comfortable on the floor in his attempt to explain this, looked pointedly at him and then at a chair close to her. He immediately got the hint and moved to the chair quickly.
Once he was seated, Lily asked, "Different than what?"
"Than hate."
Lily resisted the urge to roll her eyes and contented herself with asking, "Such as?"
James said nothing. He suddenly found the floor very interesting.
"Don't avoid the question, Potter. If you know you don't want me to hate you, then you must know what you do. So, what do you want?"
He looked up at her, his eyes guarded and cheeks pink, and in a voice she could barely make out, whispered, "The opposite."
Lily's face went rather pale and then her cheeks became tinged in a rosy hue. Finally she managed to regain the use of her tongue. "There are.many things.that are the.opposite of hate. Which do you mean?"
He did not answer verbally, but looked at her with unguarded eyes.
Her own eyes grew wide by what she saw in his. Her cheeks alternated between paling and flaming. She took a sharp intake of air and when she exhaled it sounded remarkably like, "Oh."
A great deal of the common room occupants had lost interest as soon as they saw Lily was not going to yell at James. The only people watching this interesting exchange were her friends and his friends. Unfortunately for them, they were on the opposite side of the common room from the pair, and could not hear what was being said. But they did see what effects the words had on them--and wondered endlessly what on earth could make their friends react in such a way.
After a few moments Lily tore her eyes away from James--the hands in her lap grew quite fascinating. Her eyes might be fixed, but her mind was racing with thoughts. They were rapidly brought forth and dismissed, but one central idea remained--James Potter liked her; he liked her immensely. But while Lily now knew this bit of information, she was unsure as to how to answer him. After all, how do you answer a look?
After what seemed like an eternity to James, Lily said softly, "I don't think I could ever hate you."
James gave her a puzzled look (which she did not see, since she was still looking at her lap) and said, "Sorry?"
Lily twisted her hands and fumbled for the words to say what she wanted, "I.I."
She finally gave up on that fruitless effort and looked at him. This time it was James who's eyes grew wide and sharply inhaled.
After a moment he whispered, "Y-you do?"
Lily blushed, smiled shyly and replied, "Yes."
James' grin was undoubtedly the largest that had ever graced his face.
It was also then, that time crashed down on them.
"Oy! James! We've got practice in ten minutes--and it would be good if our captain showed up!" Sirius Black called.
The pair looked up to see Sirius, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew standing near the portrait hole with two bags and two brooms--belonging to Sirius and James.
"Leave my stuff there and go on--I'll be down there in a minute," James said.
His friends looked at him as if he was insane, but did as he suggested-- after all, according to Sirius, the more time James took, the less they had to run tedious drills.
As soon as they went through the portrait hole, James turned back to Lily.
"I guess you should get down there," she said.
"Yeah," he replied in a disappointed voice.
James stood and was about to turn away, when he suddenly bent down to whisper in Lily's ear, "Meet me after practice and we'll finish this, okay?"
"Sure."
Then, after planting a swift kiss on her cheek, he grabbed his bag and broom and left the common room. Lily stared at James as he left and continued to do so long after he was gone. This was undoubtedly the best result of a fight she had ever experienced and she hoped that everything else would go as well--and was certain that this was one of the best things in her life.
The title comes from a poem by Alexander Pope.
Lily Evans sat in the Gryffindor common room, ankles crossed, back straight, and reading a book. A sour, or dark, look could be found on her usually smiling face. Anyone who knew her well, also knew when she sat in this prim and proper way, it was a clear indication of her annoyance and anger. No one dared to approach her.
One thing that Lily did that did not make her appear "prim and proper" was the fact that she was sucking on a butterscotch candy. When it finally got thin enough she would chew it--and then it was gone. As it was swallowed, her face relaxed. Her anger stayed, but she had grown remarkably calmer in her anger. It was safe to approach her and talk to her--unless, of course, you were the reason for her anger. Then you would want to wait a few hours for her to calm down enough that her posture relaxed--or she approached you.
For, Lily Evans had a redheaded temper: easy to flare and absolutely horrible to be the object of it--mainly due to her ability with insults and excellence in Charms. Although it was rare, the occasions would arise in which to be on the wrong end of her temper, also meant you were on the wrong end of her wand--and that was a place few could handle to be.
She sat, quite undisturbed, for five minutes. Then the common room became unnaturally quiet as a boy stumbled in the portrait hole and headed straight for Lily. Everyone watched with interest.
"Evans?" he asked hesitantly.
No answer.
He sighed and sank down to the floor.
"Lily?" he asked again.
Still no answer.
He decided to get it out before he lost his nerve and said clearly, "I'm sorry."
Her eyes stopped scanning the page. Only my friends know that it's safe and highly appreciated when someone apologies before my anger's run its course, she thought. And this little nugget of knowledge would explain to the wondering other Gryffindors why Lily never appeared to get angry at her friends--they never let her get that far in her anger ritual. The boy at her feet was not her friend. They were acquaintances--same year, same house, same duties. Certainly, Lily and the boy got along-- well, most of the time they did--but he would not have known such a character trait about her.
After the initial shock wore off, she realized he was waiting for some response--and being rather curious as to his reason, Lily's green eyes moved from her book to the boy's face. The people watching them did not see this subtle change, for her head remained fixed in the direction of her book. He seemed to consider this as a sufficient response. After all, he now knew she was paying attention to him.
"I didn't know that what I said would get you so upset. I certainly didn't mean for it to have that effect--I was being a prat. Can you forgive me?"
Lily did something wholly unusual--she snapped her book shut with a resounding "thwump." Everyone in the room, besides herself and the boy, jumped at the sound. No one was sure whether this was a way to get everyone's attention or a signal to stop listening to the pair. Since they were not sure, they continued to listen--expecting Lily's temper to kick in.
"Why are you apologizing, James Potter?" she asked in a calm voice.
He looked at her for a moment, deep in thought--almost as if he were choosing his words very carefully.
"Because I don't want you to hate me."
"I didn't hate you--I was angry with you."
James' eyes lit up. "Was? You mean I'm forgiven?"
"Only if you can get yourself out of this scrape." When she saw his confused look she continued, "Why don't you want me to hate you?"
James suddenly looked uncomfortable. At long last he muttered, "Because."
Lily sighed; she could tell that this would take awhile to get the story out of him--that is, if there was anything to be told. "Because?" she repeated.
James nodded slightly and said, "Because I want something different."
Lily looked at him for a moment. Then, deciding he probably was not comfortable on the floor in his attempt to explain this, looked pointedly at him and then at a chair close to her. He immediately got the hint and moved to the chair quickly.
Once he was seated, Lily asked, "Different than what?"
"Than hate."
Lily resisted the urge to roll her eyes and contented herself with asking, "Such as?"
James said nothing. He suddenly found the floor very interesting.
"Don't avoid the question, Potter. If you know you don't want me to hate you, then you must know what you do. So, what do you want?"
He looked up at her, his eyes guarded and cheeks pink, and in a voice she could barely make out, whispered, "The opposite."
Lily's face went rather pale and then her cheeks became tinged in a rosy hue. Finally she managed to regain the use of her tongue. "There are.many things.that are the.opposite of hate. Which do you mean?"
He did not answer verbally, but looked at her with unguarded eyes.
Her own eyes grew wide by what she saw in his. Her cheeks alternated between paling and flaming. She took a sharp intake of air and when she exhaled it sounded remarkably like, "Oh."
A great deal of the common room occupants had lost interest as soon as they saw Lily was not going to yell at James. The only people watching this interesting exchange were her friends and his friends. Unfortunately for them, they were on the opposite side of the common room from the pair, and could not hear what was being said. But they did see what effects the words had on them--and wondered endlessly what on earth could make their friends react in such a way.
After a few moments Lily tore her eyes away from James--the hands in her lap grew quite fascinating. Her eyes might be fixed, but her mind was racing with thoughts. They were rapidly brought forth and dismissed, but one central idea remained--James Potter liked her; he liked her immensely. But while Lily now knew this bit of information, she was unsure as to how to answer him. After all, how do you answer a look?
After what seemed like an eternity to James, Lily said softly, "I don't think I could ever hate you."
James gave her a puzzled look (which she did not see, since she was still looking at her lap) and said, "Sorry?"
Lily twisted her hands and fumbled for the words to say what she wanted, "I.I."
She finally gave up on that fruitless effort and looked at him. This time it was James who's eyes grew wide and sharply inhaled.
After a moment he whispered, "Y-you do?"
Lily blushed, smiled shyly and replied, "Yes."
James' grin was undoubtedly the largest that had ever graced his face.
It was also then, that time crashed down on them.
"Oy! James! We've got practice in ten minutes--and it would be good if our captain showed up!" Sirius Black called.
The pair looked up to see Sirius, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew standing near the portrait hole with two bags and two brooms--belonging to Sirius and James.
"Leave my stuff there and go on--I'll be down there in a minute," James said.
His friends looked at him as if he was insane, but did as he suggested-- after all, according to Sirius, the more time James took, the less they had to run tedious drills.
As soon as they went through the portrait hole, James turned back to Lily.
"I guess you should get down there," she said.
"Yeah," he replied in a disappointed voice.
James stood and was about to turn away, when he suddenly bent down to whisper in Lily's ear, "Meet me after practice and we'll finish this, okay?"
"Sure."
Then, after planting a swift kiss on her cheek, he grabbed his bag and broom and left the common room. Lily stared at James as he left and continued to do so long after he was gone. This was undoubtedly the best result of a fight she had ever experienced and she hoped that everything else would go as well--and was certain that this was one of the best things in her life.
The title comes from a poem by Alexander Pope.