ZumZumZoo: You could ask if you wanted to, I would like it J.
Disclaimer: Oopsies. This is for all the previous chapters that I forgot to put a disclaimer in. I don't own Harry Potter (I wish though). Everything you don't recognize I probably made up.
Sorry about all the laughing in this chapter… It might sound kind of corny. But, laughter's the best medicine, right? Heh.
Reporting for the Daily Prophet, Chapter 4, Of Butterbeer and Spaghetti
I had no idea what I was supposed to wear. That was mainly because I had no idea where we were going.
I know James said the Leaky Cauldron, but he could have meant Hogsmeade or something. It seemed like a spur of the moment idea. We never made final plans.
I'm so confused right now; I can't help but start laughing.
Why should I care what I'm going to wear on a date with James Potter? We're just going as friends; he said so himself.
I pick out a pair of dark blue jeans and a white turtle neck.
As soon as I pulled the shirt over my head, my phone rang, scaring the crap right out of me.
I ran eagerly to my phone, to pick it up. Why would I care so much about a phone call? Truthfully, I don't get many calls at all. I get mostly owls from work. In fact, I had to expand my cage to hold at least more than three owls at the same time. But you know what? That's entirely irrelevant.
"Hello," I say into the receiver.
"Er, hi, Lily! It's James."
How'd he get my number? "Hi!"
"Um, well, earlier on, I was thinking that I would pick you up around 6, but then I realized that I didn't know where you lived. And then I realized again that I had no way of communicating with you, well, I had my owl, but she would have taken too long.
"So, I figured you'd have a phone. And then I was hit with another realization (It was just my day of realizing things… heh). I didn't know your phone number!
"But! Remember the day in Muggle Studies when Professor Hartshorn told us that all telephone booths had telephone books in them, and Sirius asked why would a book have a telephone in them, then set off the fireworks? Well, I did! I was real proud.
"So I set off to the first telephone booth I could find, and I got your phone number!"
That's a novel, ain't it? "Whoa. So I guess you want my address?"
"Yeah, I guess that's what I was aiming at." The voice said on the other end of the line.
"I can do that," I laugh, "its 111 Chrysanthemum Avenue. If you take a left from the Leaky Cauldron, then walk down about 6 blocks from it, you should see a bus stop. Take a right up that street, and then a left about three blocks down. That'd be me."
"Oh, thanks…" there was as pause, "So, is 6 Ok?
"That's fine! So I guess I'll see you later?"
"Yeah. Uh, bye."
"G'bye."
The line clicked dead, and I put down the receiver. It was 5.30 now. I had half an hour or so before James came.
I grabbed my jacket, and as soon as I finished the last button, I heard a great crash in my living room.
I searched around for my wand and when I felt it (Under my bed, it's been a while since I've used it. I've no idea how it ended up there!) I gripped on to it tightly.
If someone wanted to break into my flat, well, they'd have to get through me first!
I silently crept into the living room, and as soon as I saw the culprit, I sent a mean Funrunculous hex at him. Boils started popping on him all over him.
"Holy shit! What the hell is going on here?"
I then realized that it was James. I burst into uncontrollable laughter, and just barely managed to squeeze out the counter curse.
He had flooed here! I should have known he would do something like that.
He hopped around, trying to regain his balance. "Hello!"
I couldn't manage an answer.
"Aw, c'mon! It's not that funny!!"
"It was," I said, gasping for air and regaining my composure.
"Well, if you say so," He held out his arm, mock gentleman-like, "Shall we get going?"
"We shall," I said, taking his arm.
We walked down to the Leaky Cauldron and entered through the 'portal' to the magic world.
Tom, the bartender, told us to sit anywhere we wanted. We picked a seat in the back, by a service exit, and soon, Tom came up to us.
"What can I get for you two? Oh, hi James! You did great against the Apples! Everyone at the pub wishes you luck. Remember the first time your father brought you here? That was when you got your stuff for Hogwarts. You were so excited!"
"Yeah. I remember, too! We'll have two warm butterbeers please!," James replied to him. Apparently they knew each other well. I've only met Tom once or twice. He wasn't there when I came through, I don't think it was his shift, it was some lady behind the counter. Everyone else knew her too. But, that was in the good old days.
A few minutes later, two frothing hot butterbeers were sitting in front of us. As we started to drink, we talked about things... and Hogwarts.
"So it wasn't you who stepped on my toe?" He asked me.
"No! I wasn't even close to you! That prankfest was totally uncalled for." I remembered that clearly. James thought I had stepped on his big toe on purpose, for when he bumped into me on the train. I didn't want to get close to him (For fear he might crash into me again, I didn't have a good first impression of magic folk), let alone get near enough to step on his toe.
I believe that prankfest was what had sparked our emnity. Our mutual hatred of each other. We kept getting back at each other. And, I have to admit, as much as it was humiliating (For both parties, might I add, while James had his fellow Marauders, I had Mariah, Arabella, and Sabra, three clever masterminds with a combined imagination of well, how would you compare an imagination? They were wicked creative. Let's say that), it was really fun. Sneaking into their dormitories, their bathrooms, putting green goop in their shampoo, turning their books into glop, it was probably the highlight of my life.
But now that I think about it, a stubbed toe was a very stupid reason for creating a school long enemy.
We must have been thinking the same thing, because when our eyes met, we started laughing... and giggling (Like a school girl, which I'm apalled at... kinda) in my case.
I think we must have attracted a lot of attention.
A mass of squealing girls came rushing over. "JAMES! JAMES! Can we have your autograph?"
"OH! MY! GOD! IT'S JAMES POTTER! AHHHHHHHHH!"
James was so surprised, he spilled his drink all over me. I cried out in surprise.
"We have to get out of here!" He yelled to me over all the girls squeals of delight.
I couldn't think with all the noise. I took out my wand, muttered the silencing charm, and I was blessed with the fortune of silence.
The girls hadn't noticed that they had beens silenced.Their mouths were still screaming, even though no sound was coming out. I was disgusted.
"The service entrance," James said.
We hurried over, me shielding James from the girls. Some were trying (Vainly, might I add) to smack a kiss on him. Some missed completely, landing me with a few. I tell you, I'm emotionally and physically scarred. That is not an experience I would care to go through again.
We made it to the door, and just before it slammed shut, I muttered the counter-charm to all those girls. The screaming started up again, but this time, it was puzzled. I couldn't help but feel sorry for those girls, but right now, obsessed crazed quidditch fans weren't my problem. Getting James somewhere safe away from crazy girls was, though.
There's no telling where those girls could have gotten too in Diagon Alley by now, so Diagon Alley was out of the choice. Muggle London being the only one left. We ended up going to my flat, after nearly blowing each other's heads off.
I was sure that James would want to go sight seeing around muggle London. He was sure that he wanted to go to my flat for dinner. But, I gave in, supposing it would be the better thing to do.
No one's head got blown off, which is a good thing... I guess.
So the next thing I know, we're sitting down to a spaghetti dinner.
"I suppose it wasn't a good idea to go out in public without security or in a private room. That's why I never see Tom, because whenever I go out for dinner, I'm always in a seperate dining room."
"That's ok though," I say.
We started small talk and after awhile, I noticed he was having difficulty picking up the spaghetti with his fork. "Having problems?" I asked.
"I've never had spaghetti this uh, slippery," He said, quite confused.
I stared. Never had slippery spaghetti? How can you not have slippery spaghetti? It's like, the qualifications of spaghetti!!
"The house elves always added... stuff, I guess," He said, "It was never this slippery."
Oh. Never this slippery? My mom yellls at me for amking it too sticky... Ok. "Well, I'll teach you how to pick it up."
"There's a way to pick it up?"
"Yes, of course there is. Here, you take your fork, stick it in the middle, no! Don't scoop, just er, stab. Yeah! Great." His fork made a great screech as he 'stabbed' his spaghetti."Now hold your fork like this, and twist it around."
He twisted his fork and the spaghetti came twisting around it.
"Yeah, then you eat it when it looks like a honeycomb. Like right now. It's not too big, not too small."
We finished eating, then settled down into the living room, where James had made his rather er, comical entrance earlier.
We sat down on the couch and turned on the TV. James started flipping through the channels.
After going through every single channel (3 times), James settled on the Wizard of Oz. It was just as good, because I would have blown up if he had gone through another time.
James had a lot to soay on the movie, along with the Wicked Witch of the West, and nearly screamed when he saw her.
By the end of the movie though, no words came out of his mouth.
I glanced over and saw that he had fallen fast asleep, with his head tipped back, droop slightly falling out of his mouth. He looked so peaceful I didn't want to wake him up.
I carefully sat up. I moved him around so he lay lengthwise on the couch. He barely fit, his legs were so long.
I sat down in my big green recliner (It's my favorite chair), and as I started to doze off, I realized that maybe I was wrong to have refused all those dates with James Potter.