Dancing in November
By Capucine
Chapter Three
There was light. Bright light.
There was warmth. Too much warmth. Too hot.
There was something soft on top of him. He gave it an experimental shove and it fell off.
There was noise. Indeterminable noise. Voices, maybe. He couldn't tell what they were saying.
He wrinkled his nose in annoyance. Each furrow in his forehead was like a river of irritation, his expression a magnificent scowl. It was the kind of expression Tarzan might wear, to scare away some frightful jungle beast.
But he didn't know who Tarzan was.
The voices stopped.
He sensed eyes on him.
He abandoned his close-eyed-glare and pretended to be asleep.
There were footsteps. Approaching. His shoulder was shaken abruptly.
"Sirius, wake up, you lazy bugger," said a familiar voice.
Blearily, he opened his eyes. A shaft of sunlight hit him head on, and he yelped and covered his face with the pillow.
"Come on, Padfoot," said Remus. "Hurry up, or they'll have stopped serving breakfast by the time we get there."
He adjusted his grip on the pillow over his eyes, shutting his eyes fiercely. He wasn't about to give in that easily.
Remus sighed. "Peter, get his other leg," he said.
Next thing he knew, he was being dragged feet-first out of his nice, comfortable bed. Limb by limb, he hit the ground. His head fell onto the carpeted floor with a dull thunk.
It was most unpleasant.
He stood up, glared at Remus and Peter, and threw the pillow back on the bed, after successfully resisting the urge to throw it at his mates. Then he pulled on some clothes and ran his fingers through his hair. Finished with his customary morning ordeal at last, he trotted down the stairs, with Remus and Peter at his heels.
The first thing he noticed when he sat down at the Gryffindor table was that there were no more chocolate croissants left. This was very dissatisfactory. He was forced to walk all the way over to the Ravenclaw table and charm the pants off of some fifth year whose name he didn't even know in order to get Ravenclaw's bowl of chocolate croissants. There were three left. Perfect. He ate them all, amid distraught stares from Remus and Peter.
Finally, he realized what was wrong with the morning. "Where's James?"
Remus shrugged, but a seventh year girl (Sirius was sure he could have remembered her name if he'd only had a few minutes) turned around, saying, "He's taking Lily to the Thanksgiving Carnival, didn't you know?"
Without waiting for an answer, she flipped her brown curls over her shoulder and turned back to her friends.
Sirius shook his head. If James wanted to hang out with some little bookworm instead of his mates, that was just fine with Sirius. Just fine.
*
The crisp scent of autumn was comforting, and so was the cheerful crunch of brittle leaves underfoot. They were a reminder that some things never change. And some things do, thought Lily, smiling a little at the thought. Being a witch didn't stop her from enjoying some Muggle things, namely movies.
"Have you ever seen a movie?" she asked curiously.
"A what?" said James, puzzled.
"A movie," Lily answered, smiling quietly. "Muggles make them."
"What're they like?"
She pondered for a moment. "It's hard to explain," she said finally. "But we'll have to go to one sometime."
"Sounds good to me," said James.
They were walking along the cobbled streets of Hogsmeade, which was in full regalia for the Thanksgiving Carnival. There were leftover enchanted jack-o-lanterns whose expressions changed (slightly sporadically, now that it had been nearly a month since Halloween, but in October they had been magnificent) and charmed cornucopias which consistently spat out vegetables at passersby. An owl in a turkey costume sat sullenly on the sign of the post office.
Lily shivered, despite her warm winter cloak. James had insisted on going back to the tower to get it, so they'd tiptoed back upstairs, realizing how early the hour still was. Then Lily had made some offhand comment about how it would have been nice to have wandered straight into Hogsmeade early, free of the strangling crowd of other students. James had grinned at her cheekily, said something to a statue of a hump-backed witch (at first she'd wondered if he'd gone a bit mad, talking to inanimate objects as he was), and then the hump opened up and James had taken her hand and led her straight into Honeydukes.
She shivered again, and before she knew it, she'd been steered gently but firmly into the Three Broomsticks.
"Butterbeers, dears?" asked Madam Rosmerta kindly as they sat down.
"Yes, please."
*
By midmorning, the rest of the upperclassmen of Hogwarts had started to filter out to join them. The chatter of the people around them was, oddly, comforting and diminishing simultaneously.
Lily and James went to see a puppet show, which fascinated Lily, who had never seen a wizarding puppet show before. The puppets were animated, charmed to move around and speak, enacting their own show, and the trees in the background were really growing, dropping felt leaves and budding new ones. When the stuffed turkeys took their bow and fell limply behind the puppeteer's stand, James suggested they go to an early lunch, to avoid the masses of students that would soon be declaring their hunger. Having had no breakfast, Lily was agreeable, so they trooped off to a quiet café behind the post office.
"There's a Quidditch match coming up, isn't there?" Lily asked as they ordered.
"Yeah," said James, turning to grin at her. "Against Hufflepuff. It's next Saturday."
"Oh."
"You should come."
"Maybe I shall," said Lily, even though she wasn't in the habit of attending matches.
It was good food, and they spent a few moments in silence. It wasn't uncomfortable silence. It was a new feeling, being able to maintain a silent and still comfortable atmostphere. It was companionable silence, which was a phrase Lily had only ever heard in books and had never experienced firsthand.
"I need to swing by Honeydukes today," said Lily after a while.
"Excellent," James said. "Zonko's is over there. I need some more Dungbombs."
"You're incorrigible, did you know?"
"Well, what are you doing in Honeydukes?"
"I've run out of Fizzing Whizbees," Lily said plaintively. "I give them to the first years for being good."
"What, for being quiet when people are trying to study?"
"Sure."
"Chuck a Dungbomb at them, they'll never make noise again," said James, taking a bite. "That's what I do."
"You're joking, right?"
"If you like."
They left the café just as it started to fill up. Wading through a group of excited third-years, they made their way over to the extravagant candy shop. Luckily, it wasn't very crowded. The store's only patrons presently were a few sixth-years buying some Cockroach Cluster, giggling about whatever dastardly purpose they intended to use it for.
"Will that be it?" inquired the woman behind the counter politely. She caught sight of James, and fluttered her eyelashes at him. "Why, hello, Mr. Potter."
"Hey," said James distractedly, inspecting the Bertie Botts' Every Flavor Bean—New and Exciting Flavors sign that was hanging on the cash register.
"I haven't seen you around lately, James," said the woman, reaching up to tweak her blouse into a more revealing position.
"Not surprising," said James coolly. He gestured at the Fizzing Whizbees on the counter. "That'll be it, Ms. Hawkins."
"It's Miss, James," said the woman, trying to look demure.
Lily was getting fed up. "Yes, well," she said. "Could you please ring that up?"
The woman glared, but she grabbed the Whizbees and punched some buttons on the cash register, which promptly spat out some numbers and a gurgly "thank you for choosing Honeydukes and have a nice day!"
They walked out, understandably brisk. Lily was struggling with her emotions. She'd let them get the better of her back there, and she shouldn't have. She shouldn't be so angry with another woman for hitting on James. He was James. He'd probably been born being hit on. More importantly, he was no one for whom she cared to be jealous.
On an impulse, she reached over and slid her hand into James's. He glanced down, startled, and interlocked his fingers with hers.
"Holy—" said James, cutting off the curse abruptly. He stopped and lifted Lily's hand to eye level—to his eye level, which was considerably higher than Lily's head. "You're freezing."
"I'm okay," said Lily defensively.
"Listen, love, there are some temperatures the human body is never supposed to experience," said James, taking off his cloak for the second time that day.
"You don't have to—"
"It's all right. I'm too warm," he said, settling it over her shoulders. She agreed reluctantly, pulling it tighter around her chest.
"Well, well, well."
The familiar voice stopped her heart in its tracks. She forced herself to look up. James had tensed, and he and Amos Diggory were looking at each other with the expressions they reserved for each other. Neither was entirely pleasant. There was silence for a few moments while they surveyed the other.
"Perhaps you're not aware, Diggory," said James in a voice as cold as Lily felt. "When you approach someone, you're supposed to say something. It is not generally deemed socially acceptable to just stand there."
"Go to hell, Potter."
"Not before you."
Amos snarled and lunged. James dodged the blow and grabbed the Hufflepuff's arm as it went past his head, and with a simple, effective twist, sent Amos sprawling to the ground.
Struggling to his feet, Amos turned to Lily. "Lily," he said, smiling beautifically at her. "My Lily flower. I've made a horrible mistake, but I know it now. Any chance for forgiveness, flower?"
She stepped back, away from him. The tears were threatening to fall, but she held her chin high. "Get away from me," she whispered.
He stared at her. After a long minute, he turned on his heel and walked into Honeydukes, and Lily watched him go.
"Can we go back to the castle?" she asked, trying to regain her composure.
"Of course," said James. His voice was an odd mix of compassion and anger. They were walking through the doors when James said, "I'm sorry."
She turned to him, questioning.
"I shouldn't have provoked him," he explained.
She started walking again, her hair starting to slip from its ponytail. "It wouldn't have mattered," she said simply. James sighed and caught up with her in two long-legged steps.
"Hot chocolate?" he offered.
"We won't be able to get it until dinnertime," she said, confused.
James grinned down at her. "You name it, I can get it," he said. He walked up to a portrait of a bowl of fruit and placed a hand over the pear. Lily's jaw dropped of its own accord.
"Shall we?" he said, and they walked into the kitchen. The cocoa was good, especially with all the whipped cream the house elves added. Gabby let them taste the pasta salad that she was making for dinner. James told her stories of the Maurauder's exploits between bites, marking the first time she'd laughed at all in days, and the first time she'd laughed so hard in years.
Her sixth-year self would have been horrified to have seen her seventh-year self sitting in a kitchen drinking hot chocolate and eating pasta salad with James Potter, and even laughing at James Potter's stories, all of which at which her sixth-year self would have turned up her nose.
Mentally, Lily told her sixth-year self to go to hell, and settled in more comfortably in the worn wooden chair.
*
Author's Note: *sigh* At last I found time to get this up! Here's the Thanksgiving Carnival, and just in time, too! Happy Thanksgiving, everybody! Personally, I'm thankful that Rowling hasn't yet come after me with flaming knives to punish me for my abysmal disclaimers. Standard ones apply, by the way.
Couldn't ever thank you all enough for all your lovely help. You really help buoy my enthusiasm and drive for writing!
Diane: Oooh, thanks! Sorry it took so long...
Ruth3: Definitely L/J forever—you're so right! And sorry, I've been so busy with school and band...
Fanciful Sovereign: Heh, I love your pseudonym. Thanks for telling me that; I was afraid I was the only one who related to Lily! At least, my version of Lily.
Toriisen: Thanks! The whole thing with Amos is kind of complex. I think you'll find out a little more about his character in this particular fic (I've made him rather bumptious), but let me know if you're still wondering and I'll try to explain it next chapter.
Padma: Heehee... don't worry, I'm a romantic at heart.
Enna Seawave: Thanks for your support! I seem to have made you ponderous—was the "hmm" a good or a bad? Hee!
Agloechen: I know, I know... *pats on back* Don't worry, I'll make it all happy in the end. Lily's just confused. Also, I was getting tired of all the fics where Lily's perfect and James is the jerk. So Lily's not perfect in this, but she's going to learn. I promise! See, pinky swear and everything.
I thrive on feedback. Feed me, feed me, feed me... heh, just saw that play recently. It's still fresh in my mind, as you can see. But I digress—review, please!
